


Society Darlings

by samuraiflo, thoughtless_dreamer



Series: Ladies of the Evening, Gentlemen of the Night [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Alfred Pennyworth - Freeform, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, And more than slightly turned on, And succeed, Angsting, Bad Habit (Smoking), But seriously stop laughing, Coffee is wonderful, Consorts - Freeform, Cooking as a hobby, Crossdressing, Date Night, Dick has a new kink, Dick just loves, Dick/his cereal, Dirty Talk, Escort Service, F/F, F/M, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Golden Boy with a heart of gold, Gratuitous Smut, Hand Jobs, Heavy Petting, Heels are dangerous, I only go to second base the first date, It's Super Effective, It's not funny Dick, Jason Todd/Dick Grayson - Freeform, Jason and Dick try to be conniving together, Jason is a wizard with Narnia in his cupboard, Jason is amused by this, Jason is going to die from Dick's libido, Jason wants a new corner, M/M, Marathon Sex, More coffee love, Morning sex is happy sex, Multi, Oral Sex, Piercings, Piercings break Dick, Preferably in Dick's zipcode, Progressing Relationships, Prostitution, Responsible sex, Semi-Hooker AU, Sex, Slow Build, Stupid romance novel references, The Lucky Charms Jingle, The one where Tim is not a morning person, This chapter brought to you by our sponsor tags:, UST, Undercover Identities, Undercover Work, not even sorry, physical comfort, safe sex, so much sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2014-04-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 08:40:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 56,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samuraiflo/pseuds/samuraiflo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoughtless_dreamer/pseuds/thoughtless_dreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amidst the swirl of silk in the Wayne ballroom lurk two special men (one dressed as a female). If you can afford it, they will be your date for the evening. But they may end up getting more out of the deal than you anticipated. Trained by Bruce Wayne to gather corporate secrets, his adopted sons will pose as your date to any event--and sometimes after, as well. Sometimes they do it because they're told to, others because they <i>want</i> to. Either way, these boys can make or break your evening, and maybe your career. When they step out, you better step back or you may get caught in the crossfire. ((Hooker AU where the boys gather corporate secrets for Bruce and have fun on the side.))</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. (Not) Your Average Gentleman

There’s a certain air to the room that’s not quite expectation but something close, something full of promise and wonder that spread through the crowd with as much ease as the champagne being carried by white-coated waiters on their gilded trays. The outside personalities slipped away with each sip of the delicately bubbling liquid and peals of laughter broke out over the room with the same frequency as the popping of the bubbles in delicately stemmed glasses.

The band had started up over an hour ago when the event had actually commenced but most of the guests had arrived later, fashionably late as always because the most important thing at one of these events was your entrance. If you arrived early you had better arrive in style, but if you were late the shock of your presence so suddenly was enough to take away from any lackluster entrance you might make. Not that this was stopping anyone from giving it their all--limousines lined up all down the curved drive, snaking around the quietly bubbling fountain and then further down the hushed, dark drive out into the private lane. Their occupants were surely applying their last finishing touches to their stories and their personas for the night, making sure evfery hair was perfectly in place and that every lie sounded like the truth.

One did not simply show up at Wayne manor without looking their best. Jewels sparkled on the throats, ears, and fingers of all the women and on some of the fingers of the men. Mostly, they tried to smile widely for their wives or girlfriends while straightening their ties and shrugging into their suit jackets. The promise of seeing and being seen awaited all inside the wide, welcoming doors that spilled honeyed light onto the carpeted front steps. Young, hopeful men with model good looks would check your belongings at the door, but no egos were being taken--everyone walked in with their heads held high and their tongues ready to speak words that could lift you up or bring your whole world crashing to its knees in the middle of this month’s most anticipated event.

Bruce Wayne’s galas were always highly attended and anyone who was anyone important in Gotham got an invitation. And anyone who was _someone_ had an impressive date on their arm. With each new entrance came a cresting wave of murmurs and whispers about the invitee and their guest of choice, and the goal of the game was to be one of entrances to earn the highest crescendo of gasps and exclamations of those belonging to the crème de la crème of Gotham.

There were old women with aspiring actors being dragged behind them like the newest chew toy for the women to gawk at before spitting them out for next season’s newest model. Older men had women young enough to be their daughters clinging to them, teetering in their designer heels and shivering in their short dresses. Their wives whispered behind their hands about where the girls must have been picked up and what they must have done to _earn_ those pearls tight around their delicate necks. Some even went so far as to suggest pulling the string tight enough to send them back to the filth from whence they came, all the while laughing with their friends and assuring them _no, never really,_ but meaning it all the same. There were lawyers and doctors, business tycoons and the newest additions to the growing real estate economy, people famous for what (or who) they’d done and young ones hungry to be know for what they had yet to do, all of them bumping elbows and appraising each other through the tasteful light and swirls of chiffon and delicate silk.

The host of the evening was swathed in a suit that matched his dark hair, both gleaming in the soft light from around him. The fabric sat on him perfectly, tailored most certainly by the best money could buy, and it showed. He looked young, younger than he had any right to look, but naturally so, without the harsh disparity between skin and hard implanted silicone or other agents. The lines around his blue eyes showed when he smiled, wide and brilliant, and as he laughed with his companion, a woman of approximately the same age with glittering green eyes and a smile faker than her nose job. She was quietly eyeing the other man they were talking with, sizing him up, eyes lingering on the small bit of smooth skin visible above his tie and shirt but below the stubble dusting his cheeks and jaw.

Bruce Wayne quietly rested his arm across her hips, thumb dipping into the low hem at the bottom of her spine and swirling slowly, immediately drawing a soft sigh and a look of adoration in his direction. The other man was forgotten as she relaxed into the touch and did her best to bat her long, plastic lashes up at Bruce in what may have been considered flirtation on someone five years younger but looked simply _desperate_ on a woman with more fake than real body parts. The closest guests around them made idle chit chat with each other, all the while watching with near vulture-like intensity as they waited for the perfect opportunity for an opening, hungry for their chance to speak with the man of the hour.

“You agree then, Dick?” he murmured, offering up a small smile as the other man grinned widely at him, eyes the same blue as his perfectly pressed shirt gleaming in the light.

“I think Wayne Enterprises has been going in a wonderful new direction this past quarter and I think we’ll be going in the same direction this quarter. But really, Bruce, can’t we talk about something else? I’m sure these _lovely_ ladies are tired of hearing us talk shop.” His brilliant gaze shifted to encompass the older woman hanging onto his arm and staring up at him like he was the most beautiful treasure.

In the eyes of most of the people in the room, he really was. Dick Grayson, perfect society darling and adopted son of Bruce, was simply resplendent in his tailored suit and fitted vest. The blue of his shirt was bright in contrast to the deep midnight black of his suit, tie, and hair. His eyes shone in the light with mirth and amusement, but not quite as bright as his smile or his wit. He was known in all circles of Gotham as an attentive date who, no matter the situation, could keep you entertained and engaged. Some of the younger women said that when his gaze was turned on you everyone else seemed to fade away as if you were the only thing he saw.

He turned this gaze now onto his companion, smile bright enough to shine even in the light as low as his voice. “Would you care to dance?” He held out one slender hand and the woman grasped it in a daze as he began to lead her towards the dance floor with a warm smile thrown over his shoulder at his host and adopted father. Then his attention was squarely focused on his partner again as they joined the swirl of the dancing throng on the polished floor, the man laughing quietly as the woman blushingly related some mediocre experience she’d had that morning but he still insisted on hearing.

The music changed from something a bit slower to something uptempo but still classic and Dick’s partner excused herself to get something to drink. She declined his offer to get her something himself, instead insisting that he let her grab some fresh air and catch up with her daughter. Her eyes shone at this last bit, no doubt thinking that perhaps she could sell her daughter to this man as good marriage material. Dick reached out and grabbed her hand, placing a soft kiss against her knuckles, and she left with a flush high on her cheeks the likes of which she hadn’t experienced since she was her daughter’s age, thoughts of grandchildren replacing the image of his eyes in her mind. He executed a graceful turn and almost stepped on the foot of the woman behind him.

“Oh, I’m so terribly sorry!” he said, reaching out to steady her shoulder as she wobbled just the slightest bit.

As was the customary reaction when Dick looked at you, this girl blushed as well and murmured that no, it was perfectly fine, it was her fault surely, but the man was having nothing of it.

“The least I could do is offer you a dance. Unless...someone as pretty as yourself already has a partner?” His smile was wide and hopeful but he warily eyed the business man standing behind her.

Rather breathlessly she turned to face her date, soft lips parted to say something, anything to be able to dance with _the_ Dick Grayson, but was saved the trouble as he smiled stiffly and excused himself, weaving his way through the dancers as both Dick and the young woman moved into position and joined in.

“Laying it on rather thick, don’t you think?” she said under her breath, perfect smile still plastered on her face, rouged lips barely moving.

Dick’s smile only shone wider as he pulled her closer and swirled her with the rest of the dancers. “Oh, not really. I think it’s just the right amount. You needed me to step in anyway. Don’t deny it.”

“I didn’t need you to _literally_ step in, Dick. I just bought these shoes and you almost ruined them.” The grumble in her voice was deeper than seemed possible but her partner didn’t seem to care.

“Well, I never said I was perfect, Tim, just that I had perfect timing.” His smile faltered the slightest bit as the delicate hand on his waist squeezed him hard. “Easy, Hercules, or your date will walk out of here without any muscle function.”

She--he--grumbled again, dropping the fake, high, airy voice. “Serves him right, really. He tried to cop a feel in the car on the way over. I can’t feel anything there, but still, it was...unwanted. And he had the _gall_ to hint that there was more of that to come. I swear if he tries anything else I’m going to break his hand.”

“Just remember, _Caroline,_ ” Dick beamed, tucking a stray lock of hair back behind her ear as he leaned in, “you catch more flies with _honey _than _vinegar.___ ” The promise of pain in his eyes conflicted eerily with the bubbly, girlish laugh Tim let out, pretending as though he had been flustered by whatever Dick had made a show of whispering. As Dick moved back from his personal bubble, Tim swatted at him playfully, putting his all into trying to catch the back of Dick’s hand with his French-tipped nails. Dick artfully dodged, smoothly disguising the motion with a sheepish rub of his neck, and he let out a bashful chuckle of his own, his hand on Tim’s waist squeezing briefly tighter.

“But remember that if he _does_ push you too far, you can always hit him in the purse. And I don’t mean the one that holds his gold card,” Dick lilted, the playfulness in his face slipping for the briefest moment as he gazed at Tim searchingly, as if to make sure Tim knew he was serious.

“I know, Dick. I can take care of myself, I promise. And if I can’t I’ll be sure to let someone know.” He looked pointedly down at the sparkling bracelet, a distress transmitter in disguise, on the wrist of the hand resting on Dick’s waist.

“Alright. As long as you’re good, little brother. So what’ve you got?” His smile was still in place but it was one that was less brilliant and more fake than any other, though Tim was probably the only one who would be able to tell.

Anyone looking at them might take the change to mean that Dick was succumbing to the charms of the girl’s gorgeous dress and the assets it showed off to perfection. She was beautiful in her own right, with blue eyes and dark hair curling and framing her face, pale arms left bare by the strapless gown she was wearing. Though _she_ was really a _he,_ it was difficult to tell from her physical appearance. Tim’s delicate features, tight dress, and pert breasts (although fake) all gave the impression that she was what was claimed--a young, eligible socialite dripping with diamonds and sex appeal. Dick could see why the man couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He himself was having trouble remembering that this was _Tim_ because the boy did so well when disguising himself.

Dick was pulled back into the task at hand as Tim began listing the information he had gathered from the man he was with, the president of a company Wayne Enterprises was considering taking over. Bruce had asked Tim to go undercover because the company had been less than forthcoming with their financial information. He was concerned that the company was underwater and would become more of a liability than a benefit if they staged a takeover. Tim’s job had been to pose as the man’s date to the gala and get as much information as possible.

“Left hip, under the bodice of the dress,” Tim murmured quietly, and Dick slid his hand down slowly, caressing the fine material and the body underneath until his hand reached that point. “Slide your finger up and grab the flash drive. It’s a clone of his phone. It should have enough information to at least get me into his systems later tonight after this debacle is over. If I manage to survive Mr. Grabby Hands,” he murmured, scowling briefly and then gasping as Dick pulled him closer.

“Don’t give me that face, baby brother, you’ll make everyone think I’m not living up to my reputation.” He slipped his finger up into the hidden compartment and deftly retrieved the information Tim had gathered as he made a show of dipping her as the song ended. With a smile he straightened up, balancing a blushing Tim back onto his expensive footwear.

“Thanks for the dance,” he murmured as he lifted up Tim’s delicate hand and placed a kiss against his knuckles, parting his lips to teasingly brush his tongue over the skin as he looked up into Tim’s eyes, his own full of amusement. It was a sort of game between them, a type of Chicken to see who could make the other more uncomfortable when out in public. Dick usually won because--there it was, that beautiful blush that bloomed across Tim’s cheeks as he fought not to squirm uncomfortably. He couldn’t fully fend off the twitch in his cheek beneath his left eye, though. “I’ll see you around, Caroline,” he said louder and walked away to find Bruce, tucking the small drive into his pocket and smiling at the jealous women staring after him like junkies deprived of the latest designer drug.

Tim--Caroline--turned and made his way off the floor, greedily taking in air to clear Dick from his head. He’d been susceptible to Dick’s form of teasing since he was small and they had first become friends, and it had only gotten worse as they’d grown up together as neighbors, then (when Tim’s parents disappeared) as brothers. He didn’t think the attraction would ever go away, but it was more under control now, just something that he reacted to and that he dealt and coped with on a daily basis. It didn’t make it any easier to control the blush that Dick managed to coax up to his cheeks, but he was used to working through it.

And he had a job to do tonight.

He and Dick had been gathering information for Bruce since...well, Tim had been doing it since he’d joined them. Dick had been doing it before Tim had come on the scene, so he could only assume that the older man had been doing it since he had joined Bruce after the death of his own parents as a child. Ever since they’d started this weird “family,” that’d been their dynamic. He and Dick would pose as dates or escorts for the wealthy businessmen Bruce invited to his parties and they would attempt to get the information he needed. Sometimes they went as themselves and sometimes, when the occasion called for it (as it did tonight) they went as someone else. 

Caroline Hill was only one of many aliases Tim slipped on, but she was one of his favorites. She was his first, so she had ended up being the closest to his own personality. It was easy to slip on her clothes and into her breathless, slightly airy voice. She wanted to be a doctor and she had the brain to accomplish it--she was homeschooled so she could move at an accelerated pace (and so no one would be suspicious of her absence at any school). She was fun if slightly reserved, sometimes quiet but mostly she was simple. Nothing too remarkable about her. Tim made an effort to make himself look _pretty_ as Caroline, but not noticeably so, so as not to attract too much attention.

She was simple and tonight simple was good.

Simple was also noticeable and, as he--she--walked across the dance floor to find her date again, a large hand closed around her wrist and pulled gently.

“Caroline.” A soft country drawl and eyes as blue as the clear midwestern sky alerted Tim to the presence of Clark Kent at the end of the warm hand on his wrist. A wide smile split his glossed lips in unhidden delight.

“Clark!” He stepped closer to the man and leaned into the gentle embrace that was given to him. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here!” His voice was back to _her_ voice and, as weird as the first sentence or two always was after the switch, he was glad it was Clark listening and not some stranger who might catch on and out him.

He and Dick had gotten used to having Clark around the manor. He and Bruce had become friends years ago after Clark was tasked with the coveted job of writing an article about the _wonderful_ Bruce Wayne and his generosity. Clark hadn’t been like the other reporters (prying, manipulative, and completely uninterested in and cold towards his young wards at the time) and he and Bruce had formed a sort of alliance: Clark got exclusive rights to stories about Bruce and any Wayne events, and Bruce and the boys kept the secret Clark had accidentally told Bruce after some probing and some alcohol. After some time he had even become privy to the undercover work his boys excelled at.

Clark was from some obscure country that, try as he might, Tim couldn’t find on any map and could find only minimal information on. Clark had been put into a sort of witness protection program as a very young child after his parents and most of the rest of everyone he knew died. He’d been raised in Kansas by the Kent family who had taken him in like their own son, giving him all the love and care any child could ask for and shaping him into the quiet, unassuming man he was today. He treated Dick and Tim as his own sons, or at least nephews, and they often called him uncle when he came over for dinners at the manor (or when he dropped by to pick up the occasional apple pie Alfred made specifically for him on request).

Now, Tim gave him a real smile and Clark returned it as they chatted easily about everything and nothing, Tim’s frayed nerves being soothed by the balm of trusted familiarity Clark offered in his quiet, deep timbered voice.

* * *

On the other side of the ballroom, Dick had just found Bruce who was trying diplomatically to extricate himself from the acrylic claws of his rather drunk date for the evening. His smile was firmly in place but as Dick approached him, the man’s eyes begged him for help. With an internal sigh, Dick sidled up to them, hand “accidentally” brushing against the exposed skin of the woman’s back. With a start, she backed away from Bruce and beamed up at the new victim.

“Dick, how lovely to see you again!” Her voice was saccharine sweet and _Dick_ got whiplash with how fast she turned her attention onto him. Her heavily made-up eyes lowered to half their normal aperture as she appraised him quickly. Her irises were bright with alcohol and the high of being around both Wayne men and Dick thought he knew what was coming. He’d seen that look on enough faces to be wary of the next words that came out of her mouth.

“I was wondering,” she said softly as she rested a hand on Dick’s chest under the pretense of smoothing out a wrinkle in his impeccable suit, voice low and intimate due to their proximity. She left her manicured hand resting over his heart as she stepped closer, breathing out alcohol and the expensive hors d'oeuvres she must have consumed earlier in the night. Dick held back his initial reaction to gag. “You seem to have lost your date for the night. Are you looking for some company?”

The way her lips moved over the word “company” sent shivers down Dick’s spine, and not in the pleasurable way. She clearly didn’t mean just for the rest of the gala. He was used to being desired but most of the others were at least subtle enough not to proposition him in front of their date, let alone Bruce. And this time her date _was_ Bruce so it was double trouble. _Triple,_ he decided, when she was propositioning him in front of his _father._

Dick put on his best smile and moved his hand up to rest on top of hers, biting down the desire to pull his hand back as soon as she latched onto him. “I’ve only temporarily found myself without company, though I appreciate the offer. I left my lovely companion at the other side of the room. She was in need of some refreshments after our turn on the floor. Perhaps you would like to join her? She was raving about the crab puffs.” With a small smile he leaned forward into her personal space, tilting his head to whisper against her ear. “I know exactly what you’re getting at and while I’m entirely flattered, I couldn’t possibly, not tonight. I have to go to a business meeting tomorrow morning and I would hate to leave you wanting. Perhaps another time.” He pulled back and lifted her hand slowly up to his lips as he locked eyes with her, pressed a gentle and lingering kiss against her knuckles, then stepped back to Bruce’s side. “Maybe you could bring us back some of those crab puffs, or some of the stuffed mushrooms? The mushrooms are an old family recipe of Alfred’s -- my old caretaker -- I highly recommend them.”

He could tell his last grin was enough as she pulled out of her daze and nodded, smiling brightly at both of them as she turned and sashayed her way across the room. Both men let out collective sighs of relief after she was out of sight before turning towards each other and laughing rather self-consciously.

“What’d you say to her?” Bruce asked with a tilt of his head and a generous sip of his drink.

Dick’s laugh this time was choked and entirely free of mirth. “You don’t wanna know, B. You really, _really_ don’t wanna know.”

Bruce rolled his eyes with a grunt, taking Dick’s word for it, and took another heavy swig from his glass. “Remind me to raise your allowance.”

“Ew, no. Don’t.” Dick pulled a face. “That makes me feel skeezy or something.”

“But...” Bruce’s face was honestly surprised. “I don’t mean it that way. I simply want to show my appreciation. Maybe now Miss Vanderbilt will leave me alone. She was becoming a bit...forward in her intentions.”

Another laugh from the younger man, this time entirely full of amusement.

Dick gave his watch a quick glance, and couldn’t entirely stifle a groan when he saw the time. “You don’t even know the half of it. We’ve got a meeting in less than seven hours. Whaddya think the chances are we can jet out of here within the hour, and _maybe_ get a full four hours of sleep?” Dick tilted his head toward the general direction he’d last seen Tim mulling through, still a captive at his date’s side as he was led about arm in arm. “I know Tim doesn’t have any classes tomorrow, but I’m pretty sure he’s as beat as we are, if not more -- walking around in those heels all evening.” Both Bruce and Dick grimaced sympathetically for the youngest Wayne at that thought; Tim was nearly a full head taller in those heels, coming closer than he ever had to reaching Dick’s height.

Bruce made a noncommittal sound but stepped closer, clasping Dick on the shoulder. “We’ll see -- we still have to report,” he murmured in a lower tone, eyes constantly roving over the party goers, watching out for any threat of an approaching socialite, or worse, the return of his incredibly intoxicated and even more handsy date. “I don’t think I’ve said so much as three words to Tim all night long--his date has proved to be incredibly possessive.”

“You’re telling me,” Dick agreed. “You should’ve seen the _look_ he gave me when I ran into him. And yeah,” Dick smiled proudly as Bruce’s attention snapped fully to him, “I may have managed to steal Caroline for a number on the dance floor.”

Dick slipped his hand into his suit jacket pocket to retrieve the USB stick, fingers curling snugly around the small piece of technology to keep it fully hidden from sight before leaning back against the wall and letting his hand settle back to his side in a perfectly natural motion. Only then did he loosen his grip to allow Bruce to knock their hands briefly together, deftly palming the drive before it disappeared into his pocket as quickly and quietly as it had emerged from Dick’s. 

“This is a copy of the data from O’Riley‘s phone?” Bruce demanded softly but firmly from the corner of his mouth, Dick’s small, affirming nod encouraging his expression to ease to a more sincerely relaxed one than Dick had seen on his father all evening--it only made sense, seeing as they had cleared their main objective of the evening, and that was really all Bruce cared to garner from this event.

“So, are we good then?” Dick couldn’t hide the bit of hope from his voice. While he wasn’t in Tim’s position, walking around all night in this persona was a bit tiresome and he was definitely looking forward to getting back to his room and falling into bed. At Bruce’s quick nod, Dick let out a soft sigh and smiled, pushing up off the wall to grin at him. “Alright then. See you in about half an hour or so? I’ll grab Ti--Caroline and we’ll meet you in the study after we change.”

Bruce’s third nod was a dismissal and Dick took it gratefully, threading his way through the throng towards where he’d last seen Tim. He passed his date on the way and made his excuses, slithering out of her arm as she tried to direct him in the other direction to “come meet my daughter, she’s simply _lovely,_ I know you’ll like her.” He affected his most devastated look and recounted the same line about the WE meeting tomorrow morning. With a last smile and a wink in the younger girl’s direction when his eyes met her starstruck gaze, he again started his trek across the hall, searching for Caroline’s head among all the others.

When he finally saw her, her date was holding her like a life preserver, clutching onto her waist as if she could save him from drowning in all the alcohol he had consumed throughout the night. Dick didn’t approach, just waited until she looked up and met his eyes, then he reached up one hand and loosened the knot of his tie slightly, their signal that it was time to leave. She nodded once and turned back to her date as Dick walked off towards the door that lead to the main part of the Manor, flashing a smile toward Alfred as he passed him standing vigilantly at his post by the door. Throughout the night, the oldest member of the Wayne clan had been offering the occasional command to the caterers and he was ready to intercede any potential trespassers, “accidental” or not. It was with great relish that Dick stepped through the threshold between the party and the manor, leaving the cloying atmosphere of the evening behind.

* * *

Ten minutes later Caroline joined him in their version of a green room, a small parlor on the second floor that held everything they usually needed for undercover jobs on the premises. As soon as she crossed the threshold, Caroline was gone and Tim was back. He stepped out of the heels with a groan of relief and slipped them into their respective shoe covers before dropping them gently into the basket at the bottom of the closet.

“So, how was Mr. Hands?” Dick asked as he finished pulling his tee on. He’d had a bit of a head start and he’d already removed his suit and changed into sweats and a worn college tee shirt.

“Ugh, horrible, really. He had too much too drink and too many ideas in his head about what he had gotten me for. Let’s say that I will have _no_ problem helping to hack anything Bruce needs me to. If because of nothing else, I can’t wait to mess with this guy’s desktop. I’m gonna change his desktop to a picture of my fist going right at his--”

“Hey-oh, little brother’s a little riled up. Let me help you with that, you’ll tear the dress the way you’re going.”

Tim stopped tugging on the zipper going down the back of his dress as Dick walked over and began to slide it down slowly.

“I’m just tired of having people manhandle me just because I’m a woman. I like Caroline but she’s the meekest of all my girls. Sometimes I wish I didn’t like being almost myself.”

Dick just smiled and held the dress together as the zipper went all the way down. “It’s alright, you seemed to handle him pretty well. You good?” Tim nodded and Dick let the dress drop to the floor in a soft pile of fabric. He leaned his chin down on Tim’s shoulder as he pressed up against his back, resorting to their normal games to try and raise Tim’s spirits. “You want me to help you with these, _Caro?_ ”

He slid his hands slowly up Tim’s sides to rest underneath his breasts. He didn’t move until Tim had drawn in a shaky breath then he stretched one finger up over the bra covering the custom-made breasts. Tim’s inhale was sharp and he tilted his head back against Dick’s cheek as he forced all the air back out of his lungs.

“Dick, really? You’re groping me _right now_ after _that guy?_ And where I can’t even _feel_ it?” Tim’s voice was almost a whine but one filled with want as well as exasperation. It was a fine line he walked with Dick like this. He both wanted it and didn’t, but it was always a sort of comfort for him, something familiar.

Dick’s hand paused as it moved down Tim’s side then continued in a soft, familiar caress. “I know, Timmy, I’m just making sure you’re okay. You _are_ good, right?”

Tim’s nod was also familiar as Dick’s hands moved off his body. He turned slowly to face his older brother, ignoring the tug of his heart that said he should have let him. No matter what his body might think, Tim’s brain knew that this...whatever it is, was a bad idea between them. So he smiled through Dick’s questions about Mr. Hands (because he wasn’t O’Riley anymore) as the other man helped him take off the breasts and changed into his own pair of sweats. He left the compression shorts on so he could take them off later in the privacy of his own room.

“Bruce waiting for us in the study?” Tim asked as he pulled a shirt on over his suddenly slim (not to mention, lighter) chest.

“Yeah, and he’s probably got a computer setup for you to work on tonight. You want me to make excuses for you? You’ve had a long night.” Dick held the door open and Tim walked through before turning to head down the hall, rubbing at the budding headache in his temple.

“No, no I’m fine. It’s not really that much and I don’t have to do anything tomorrow anyway. I’ll just get it done and maybe sleep in.”

“Pft, yeah right,” Dick scoffed, slapping a hand on Tim’s shoulder and kneading his neck. “The day you sleep in is the day that Bruce finally admits that he’d tap Selina.”

Tim’s laugh is easy and natural, echoing against the walls as they turn the corner towards Bruce’s study. “If he ever does admit it, I’ll sleep for a full _day,_ Dick, I promise. Come on, let’s get to work.” Tim grabbed the door handle and held it open for Dick before shutting it tightly behind them in preparation for a long night.


	2. Heavenly Company (But Far From A Saint)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Dick Grayson leads a comfortable existence in the Gotham where the streets are paved in gold, money and diamonds, he is more than aware of the other side, too. The side with gritty streets, less than admirable citizens and more than a few dark stains on the pavement. In a bid to get away from the overbearing weight of his day to day life, Dick deigns to take a walk on the wild side and meets a new face on his venture. One with such devastating good looks that they manage the -while not impossible, highly improbable- accomplishment of taking Dick down a notch or two--and down on his knees.

People assumed Dick Grayson’s life couldn’t be anything but fucking fantastic. 

Why wouldn’t they, when he was living the dream? How could it possibly be anything else, when you were the city’s veritable Golden Boy who could do no wrong? Who made everyone fall a little more in love with him with every delightful smile, and left women and men alike sighing in his wake? And who was quite impossible to hate, even amongst his peers in rivaling corporations, as hard as they may try? 

Dick, who never said a bad word about anyone, who only ever had good things to say, who had this uncanny ability to find the most heart warming compliments and the most compassionate words of encouragement for even the poorest, most ragged juvenile delinquents and street urchins with tear-stained (and sometimes blood stained) histories when he visited the shelters his father supplied with a steady enough stream of funds to ensure they never had to turn anyone away. 

He never flaunted his status and was incredibly modest for a billionaire’s heir, constantly and bashfully stressing just how lucky and grateful he was to have been adopted by Bruce after the fateful night of his parents’ deaths at the circus. How, although he may never want for anything, the most important thing was that he’d been offered a second chance at family (he’d give a watery laugh here, waving sheepishly at the cameras as he hastily wiped at his eyes -- as would the rest of the bawling audience, and even the reporter’s hands and lips trembled).

Dick was living the charmed life in the eyes of Gotham -- he’d come from meager beginnings as a Romani child traveling with the circus and had risen to be the first heir of Gotham’s beloved, multi-billionaire playboy philanthropist.

Every agent wanted him. He’d been chased by them for years with offers--for movies, for television, for theatre, for modeling, for an autobiography, for porn, for _anything_. Dick was a natural born performer--everyone knew of his background, and most everyone had seen the performances he would put on every so often at the Wayne Galas on request of his father. Sometimes he danced; other times he sang; on one gala that so happened to fall upon the date of his parents’ death, he even graced the audience with a taste of his remarkable flexibility in a breathtaking one-man trapeze performance act dedicated in their memory. He brought the entire room to tears that night and won a deafening standing ovation.

He was perfect.

He was Gotham’s boasted poster child.

_But._

But the thing _was_...

It wasn’t always easy being the poster child. In fact, it was remarkably difficult. It was a fact that Dick often struggled over with his feelings -- being torn between crushing relief that it wasn’t his baby brother staggering beneath all that pressure and expectation, and waves of jealousy.

Inevitably, his relief always won over any other nagging emotions, because he would _never_ ask his little brother to endure the stress that he felt. The sheer enormity of the pressure for flawless presentation made him sick, sometimes, though he could never show it. It was the ultimate sort of stage fright. The kind that felt like it had a choke hold around his neck whenever he was putting on a performance at a public event by himself and all eyes were on him. 

He thanked his graces every morning and every night that he was the one born to perform and delight, where Tim was not. The heavy weight of upholding his perfect image made him want to scream into his pillows some nights, when he was finally alone in his room and the door was locked and the curtains drawn, and the questions and comments and demands for more _more_ -tell-us-show-us-give-us- _more_ were just too much.

He _knew_ he could do it. He knew without a doubt that he could handle it everyday; knew that it was an absolute that he, Dick Grayson, would go out each and every day and perform and play his part and do it _perfectly._

But.

_But._

There were times where the demands just pushed one inch too hard, and where Dick stumbled over his limit, where even Dick knew enough was _fucking_ enough and he needed an outlet.

Bruce and Tim never said anything about these days, though he knew they could tell when they were. There was a stiffness to their shoulders, yet a sympathetic look in their eyes. They tried their best not to hawk him on these days, and somehow, miraculously, it seemed as if they knew when these days were coming before even Dick knew. Dick himself never knew if it was going to be One Of Those Days--he never knew until he woke up to that sensation of what felt like a hundred pounds sitting on his chest, pushing him firmly back down into the blankets and making him feel as though getting out of bed was an Olympic sport in itself. 

Sometimes, Dick could talk the mood away, but most often not; he would know by the time he made the painfully slow shuffle to his ensuite bathroom if he was successful or not, gauging by how much it sickened him to look himself in the eye. 

Some days, he could rally. Others, he came close to needing a new mirror (it had never happened but once every blue moon he came downstairs to eat his cereal slowly, fingers curled loosely around his spoon, his knuckles and palms painfully red and sore and black and blue). 

Dick would swear that his family knew that these days were coming before he did, because. 

Because there would already be a cup of Alfred’s famous hot cocoa and a pile of Belgian Waffles waiting for him at his spot at the table, smothered in butter and syrup and berries and all the trimmings every celebrity’s personal nutritionist would balk at and shove aside to replace with celery and a glass of water. Alfred wouldn’t say anything, but then again he really didn’t have to, did he?

Because Bruce would grace Dick with a small smile and a murmur that he wasn’t needed in the office that day, the words spoken slowly and absentmindedly as he worked on completing the morning paper’s sudoku.

Because Tim would sleepily add on (only after his third or fourth cup of coffee) that he’d finished his share of research on the latest intel they’d gathered much earlier than he had anticipated and had taken the liberty to start on Dick’s last night, “so I’m basically done already, d’ya think I could just go ahead and finish it up for you--that is, if you don’t mind?”

Dick could seriously cry and smother them with blubbering hugs and kisses on these days. He was an incredibly physically affectionate person, something that both Bruce and Tim had needed _years_ to get used to tolerating (that isn’t at all to say they _had_ gotten used to it, yet, but they’d made leaps and bounds).

But the thing was, he really _couldn’t_. He _couldn’t_ bring himself to tear up, or blubber his thanks to Bruce, or to throw his arms around Tim’s waist as he sank to his knees in something near grateful exultation, letting Tim awkwardly pat his head tiredly, occasionally missing and accidentally smacking him in the eye.

He _couldn’t_ , not _wouldn’t_ but absolutely _couldn’t_ do these things when it was One Of Those Days, because on Those Days, Dick honestly did not have anything left to give. His entire being, inside and out, felt like it was pulled so taut, that even the tiniest bit of expression felt like it could be the straw that broke the camel’s back--that he could snap at any given time.

So, rather than bottle up his feelings on Those Days, risk being in the manor when he inevitably lost it if he couldn’t go out and do something, Dick chose to Do Something. His solution was a simple one, really.

Dick liked to walk. 

Not just anywhere, though--Dick liked to walk in Gotham. Not in the lush, prosperous areas where everyone would be looking for him though, and certainly not in the areas that seedy paparazzi would be looking for _scandal_ in general, but in the not so pretty Gotham that the rest of his world never saw.

It wasn’t the world of the people made up of more fake parts than real, and with the stores that only someone with no less than a gold card could muster up the courage to go into. It wasn’t filled with hundreds of thousands of dollars of jewelry being flaunted casually, or fine wining and dining at the restaurants where reservations needed to be penciled in three months in advance, if not five.

It was the Gotham that people hastened to be out of by nightfall, the part that was on the news every day and every night, starting at 5 AM with the day’s first reports and ending at 11 PM with the last. It was the city that Dick read about in the morning papers, and whose events Dick was alerted to every hour with breaking news as updates on his phone.

It was the life Dick would have been living, if fate had not intervened and his parents had ended up settling down one day--he knew they never would have, it wasn’t in their blood, but this would still be where they would have lived. 

So Dick threw on his most faded, tattered jeans (he prefered favorite and most loved) with admittedly more holes than fabric, toed on his beat up sneakers, threw on a bulky Blüdhaven University sweater over a plain tee (and a pair of sunglasses to be safe) and slipped out one of the manor’s back gates--the ones that no one save Clark and precious few others were privy to) and he would walk. Almost more importantly than walking, though, he would dream.

Dick was so grateful for the life he had. He could never in his wildest dreams have imagined that things would have happened the way they did, and he honestly would not have it any other way. He loved Bruce, loved Alfred, loved having Tim as a younger brother. Frankly, he was honored to be held in such high regard and looked up to as a role model, as someone others should strive to be like. He would never fully understand it for himself, but he accepted it graciously and went about splitting his time between fulfilling his duties in Public Relations for WE and for Bruce’s not-so-documented duties, while sparing as much time as he possibly could for volunteer work and going to charity events.

Yet when he walked these gritty Gotham streets, Dick’s mind inevitably tended to travel to the _what ifs_ that would never be answered. 

When Dick walked here, it was _safe_ to let his guard down for once, and to let his mind wander. Obviously, not so far to the point where he was walking around without so much as a thought to his surroundings, but in the ways that mattered for _Dick_. He could let his face fall into whatever expression he pleased as he contemplated whatever he wished--he could scowl, glower, and smirk to his heart’s content if he so desired, without worrying about any paparazzi snapping a less-than-becoming shot to spread like wildfire in the tabloid headlines (because human expressions of emotions such as those absolutely could not be caught dead on _Dick Grasyon’s_ face, his life was _perfect_ ).

With that passing thought, Dick decided to make the most ridiculous face he could muster, full on crossing his eyes and scrunching his nose as he stuck his tongue out - just because he could. He could only muster the willpower to hold it for about five seconds before he was giggling madly to himself just imagining the scandalized looks on the snobbish socialites that attended their parties should he pull a face like he so often wanted to when their gushing seemed to go on forever.

He wandered the city streets for hours, hands tucked into his pockets against the chill of autumn as he moved at a leisurely pace, hood pulled up over his (in an impulsive act of rebellion) just-rolled-out-of-bed hair, complete with tousled flyaway bangs and his eyes closed more often than not. He took great pleasure in simply walking with his head tipped back, squinting up at the deceivingly bright, overcast skies that always seemed to loom with the threat of rain, and reveled at the chance to breathe in the heavy, almost morose atmosphere of the Gotham streets. 

It was a huge weight off his shoulders, being able to walk around without the slightest fear that people were on the prowl as they constantly kept an eye out for him or other celebrities, scrutinizing all the faces on the block. Dick could walk, talk, and do whatever he needed to get his feelings out of his system on these kinds of days, and no one here would care.

Here, people kept their heads down, hurrying around as they took care of their day to day business, sometimes unsavory, sometimes not. So long as you didn’t go around raving like a lunatic or acting in a way that screamed undercover cop, it was pretty much impossible to bring attention to yourself unless you were specifically looking for it.

It was just getting dark, and there was a chilling bite to the air that had started to encourage thoughts about heading home, half baked ideas for the evening forming, like begging Alfred for another cup of his special cocoa to go with one of his sandwiches (a thought that nearly made his stomach growl--well, _okay_ , maybe it _actually_ did) or dragging Tim from his nearly constant post in front of the eerie blue glow of the computer screen in his dark bedroom to the family den to have a movie marathon (he may or may not have been thinking Disney) when, for the first time, someone came specifically looking for the attention Dick always looked to ditch.

“Well, wouldja look at that? Aren’t you’re a few neighborhoods out of your element, Golden Boy?”

The voice was sultry, low, and came out in a surprisingly masculine purr, surprising because Dick couldn’t describe it as anything but a purr yet at the same time, Dick has never heard a successful _masculine_ purr in his life before outside of porn. That’s about as far as his thoughts managed to get before they came to a screeching halt with three realizations that hit him in unison so hard he stopped dead in his tracks.

One: The proposition (because honestly, what else could it be when the man asked in a voice like _sex_ , and when the man looked like sex _incarnate_ ) was directed at _him_ , or it must have been, because he was suddenly face-to-face with the owner of said voice...and--

Two: He has a type. Dick had never really thought he had a type before, but he has a Type. And this man is the embodiment of that Type. If you’re curious, the type is tall, built, and handsome, with unbelievable blue-green eyes (teal, his second head points out helpfully--and he means _points_ ) that glint from beneath a shock of pitch black hair with a curious but intriguing white stripe. And a smirk that could bring a man to his knees, rather than the other way around like you’d think this situation was supposed to go...and 

Three: _”Fuck me.”_ Well. Maybe three and a half realizations, because three is _definitely “fuck me”_ as in Dick would have absolutely no problem dropping on his knees for this guy, but

Three and a half: _“Fuck. Me.”_ as in, whoa, this guy knows _exactly_ who he is, judging by the cocky smirk on his (oh so kissable and-- _sparkles?_ \--he’s wearing lip gloss, _why_ is that hot?) lips, and despite yelling at himself for it he couldn’t help but give the guy brownie points for his observational skills, because he was starting to think that people around here were actually just stupidly blind.

Dick figured that, well, the cat’s out of the bag now, anyways, so why not just go for it? 

“Caught me red handed, huh? To be honest, I was looking for a change in scenery,” he finally answered earnestly, tacking on a sheepish laugh at the end, because, _oh_ , he’d definitely been blatantly ogling the guy in stunned silence for a few seconds too long.

The man’s smirk broadened and he slipped into a subtly more provocative pose, tipping his head as he slid one hand slowly down his side to come to rest on one cocked hip, watching Dick watch his hand’s path through eyes at half mast, because he clearly enjoyed seeing Dick enjoy the taste of the show he had to offer.

“You sure that’s all you came for, Wayne Junior?” he teased, slowly but confidently edging closer, until he was was close enough to trail a finger down from Dick’s collar bone to rest at the hem of his pants before sliding his hand up just enough to slip it into the pouch of the sweater. As much of a turn on the move was, for the life of him all Dick could feel was how cold this guy’s hands were even through the material of his sweater and tee shirt--and he was _pretty_ certain it didn’t have to do with the definite rise in his temperature.

But flirting was a game that Dick played, and played _well_ , and it was clear this gorgeous stranger had at least a certain standard of expectations, judging from the challenge in his eyes. He'd made it clear he knew who he was, and he was testing the waters. How could Dick resist?

Dick let a sly smile slip easily onto his face, as easily as slipping on a mask, and he took another step forward into the other man’s space so that their bodies were just brushing. He inwardly grinned at the way the other man’s breath hitched oh so quietly and he tilted his head coyly, letting his bangs fall into his eyes as he made a show of letting his tongue peek out to run over his lower lip before he leant in to let his mouth just brush the shell of his ear. This time, _he_ had to struggle to suppress a shudder, because his lips brushed metal--and oh, he apparently had a thing for piercings now, too--before he whispered in his silkiest voice--

“I admit, I may have been wondering if you’d let me...take you...” he paused, letting his own hand slide down his front agonizingly slowly before it slipped into his sweater pouch pocket to curl his warm fingers around the other’s frankly freezing one. Only then did he finish his sentence, “to get a cup of coffee?”

The man started, jerking in surprise as he took a small step back (but he didn’t recoil his hand, to Dick’s delight), his eyes widening as he took in Dick’s expression and, seeing that he was smiling yet perfectly serious...he threw back his head and laughed. Dick immediately liked the sound--it was warm, throaty, full and honest, and sounded quite therapeutic, if he said so himself.

“They’re right about you, huh, Mister Goody Two Shoes?” the stranger grinned, but there was undeniable admiration in his voice even as he teased Dick. “Got a real heart of gold there, don’tcha? I honestly can’t say I’m _not_ surprised, I thought they were just talking you up and shit.” 

“Believe me, I’m sure they’ve talked me up so far your expectations are gonna come crashing down over your head in smithereens,” Dick couldn’t help but grin right back. “But really--as sinfully gorgeous as you may be, I think it’s common courtesy for two people to at least share a cup of coffee on the first date, not to mention their names?” Dick asked hopefully, a slightly sheepish smile overtaking his face. “I mean, it’s kinda unfair, you gotta admit--you’ve got some ground on me, knowing _my_ name. I’d definitely like to know yours. And maybe, if you’re up for it, a recommendation for a good coffee place? Maybe somewhere that won’t sound the paparazzi's alarm? If you haven’t noticed, I’ve kind of been trying to get away from it all.”

This time, the man doubled briefly over with the force of his snickers before he righted himself to clasp an arm around Dick’s shoulders amicably. The weight was warm and comforting and felt so much better than the dainty way he led his dates about, with their perfectly manicured fingernails clutching hard enough around his arm that he could feel their acrylic bite through his suit jacket sleeve.

“Well Goldie, since you asked so nicely, my _real_ name’s Jason Todd (though I’ll let you call me whatever you like if you’re paying) and I just so happen be your tour guide to the rowdier side of Gotham this evening,” Jason smirked. “And believe me. I know just the place, with the best cuppa around."

* * *

Dick couldn’t help but laugh in delighted amusement as Jason walked purposefully past the third grimy corner diner, not even pausing as he cheerfully flipped off the a burly looking man who whistled at him from behind the safety of the bulletproof glass windows, only to make a sharp turn up the steps to a crowded-looking apartment complex. 

“I figure I ought to tell you that this is a pretty fucking big break in etiquette, Goldie--I ain’t one to just bring any ol’ clients home,” Jason smirked as he fished briefly in one of the pockets of his beaten leather jacket to withdraw a set of just two keys. Rather than use one of the two Dick supposed was for the rusted looking front door, Jason gave a mighty kick that had the door slamming open only to bang loudly against the wall, hinges screeching loudly in protest. The sound was enough to make Dick wince, but couldn’t make him shake the grin he was wearing. If anything, he only grinned wider at the display, mildly surprised at the calm that quickly reclaimed the air after the racket.

“What, your neighbors know better than to make noise complaints about you, Jay?” Dick chuckled. Jason rolled his eyes, maybe at Dick’s lack of insight, maybe at the fact that he’d been graced with a companionable nickname not even ten minutes into knowing him, but his smirk lost a bit of his cocky edge, replaced with more sincere amusement.

“The lock’s completely rusted up, we haven’t been able to even jimmy the key into the hole in the last two years--you kinda learn to block it out, it’s just become one of the comforting sounds of home,” Jason snorted, before his face grew a little more hardened. “Besides, it’s nothing compared to the drunken excuse of a fuckwad neighbor who kicks his pregnant girlfriend around after stumbling home from gambling away all her hard earned money working the pole,” he added, a little too blankly, a little too matter of factly.

Dick’s smile dimmed, and Jason glanced at the other man, frowning in confusion, evidently already more than aware that even the merest hint of quiet from the once-acrobat was unusual, before rolling his eyes with a loud sigh, ushering Dick inside, muttering something under his breath--Dick could only just make out every other word, but he was pretty certain it was along the lines of “goody two shoes” and “hearts of gold” and “jet setters out of their element.”

By the time they’d trekked the five floors up to Jason’s apartment, however, both Jason and Dick were spluttering with helpless, out-of-breath snickers after hearing no less than four repeated (and pitiful) failed attempts to open the door the same way Jason had, accompanied with muffled sounding curses flung furiously at the pathetic excuse of a front door.

“Now I know it ain’t Wayne Manor, but don’t hate on my pad,” Jason warned as he actually used his keys this time, turning the lock in the door and, after hearing the telltale _click_ , letting them dangle from the lock as he turned to poke Dick sternly in the chest. “We can’t all get a silver spoon shoved in our hands when we’re orphaned--the other 99% of us have to scramble for the scraps.”

Dick huffed a breath of a laugh, his kind blue eyes peering right back into Jason’s narrowed, defensive ones. “Believe me, Jason. Nobody knows that better than me.” Dick waited patiently as his teal eyes narrowed even further and his mouth tightened briefly into a firmer line, carefully searching for something in Dick’s face and, upon, apparently finding it, his expression softened and lightened as he gave a short, curt nod. With that, he made a show out of opening the door wide for Dick, making a playful, sweeping gesture with his arm to usher the socialite through first, throwing a lilted “ladies first” after Dick before locking the door behind them.

It was a snug little studio apartment, but Jason had clearly made it his mission to try and fill it with clutter. Not with furniture--in that regard, the flat was very sparse, with just a small thin coffee table and weathered sofa (that also clearly served as the dining room table and chairs, if the scattering of mugs, forks, and salt and pepper shakers were any indication)--but in that it seemed as though Jason had made it his purpose to squeeze in as many books as he could into the place. 

“Holy-- _wow_ ,” Dick couldn’t keep the exclamation from escaping, because, well...

They were _everywhere_ \--stacked haphazardly in the corners, and nearly blanketing the floor in some places. They were shoved into a tiny, second hand bookcase, perched precariously on top of the small fridge and counters in the kitchenette. They were making a slow avalanche from the window sills and they trailed off into the doorway that Dick assumed led into the bedroom (inexplicably, Dick somehow inherently knew that, should he go into the bedroom, while there wouldn’t be any on the unmade bed, they would surround the bed in unsteady towers that threatened to tumble onto and bury Jason in his sleep).

The image of Jason snoring away obliviously, blanketed in books with only a hand or foot escaping the pile, was incredibly endearing. 

“So I like to be well read. Gotta problem with that, Mister Ivy League?” Jason said almost challengingly, and Dick hastened to smooth whatever hackles he had inadvertently raised this time.

“I think it’s great,” Dick grinned, leaning down to pick up a dog-eared copy of _Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance_ , fingers lovingly brushing away the dust that had accumulated from being stacked near the front door. “Oh, wow, now _there’s_ a classic. I haven’t seen someone else with this one in a while. You got a ride? Make any interesting mods recently?” He asked casually, genuinely curious.

“You bet your sweet ass I have.” Jason’s guard died down as quickly as it had risen, to be replaced with a dazzling smile of delight at the realization that he was in company with another motorcycle buff. “My baby is my pride and joy, and even the thug life around here knows better than to mess with my ride.”

Dick smiled, gently replacing the well-loved book back in its rightful spot, and he absentmindedly wiped his palms on his jeans as he realized they were slightly slick with what he realized was not a smear of dirt, but _oil_ grease, eyes flicking around intently for other familiar books as Jason left him by the doorway, tossing his keys onto the table and shrugging out of his jacket.

The socialite grinned widely as he spotted a particularly colorful book that looked out of place amongst the battered copies of old library books, and he picked it up to read the title, laughing aloud suddenly. “ _Rachael Ray’s 30-Minute Meals_?” Dick asked, a hint of teasing to his tone this time. 

“Hey, Rachel Ray knows her _shit_ ,” Jason retorted without venom. “I can’t exactly spend a whole lotta time whipping up meals, and a gal’s gotta watch her figure _somehow_.” His sarcastic declaration was punctuated with a loud flopping sound that ended with a pair of pants landing at Dick’s feet.

Jason’s pants. As in, the light leather pants Jason _had_ been wearing. 

Dick stared at the innocent pile of leather before glancing to the couch Jason had audibly thrown himself upon, where he was busy muttering to himself as he dug through a basket that was stowed beneath the table, safely out of the madness of the clutter. The way that his tight, revealing shirt had also been lost, only to be replaced by a much more comfortable looking, tattered, white wife beater. It was clear now, that he’d been making himself right at home in the time that Dick had been poking around.

Clearly, Jason was more of a free spirit when he was at home, Dick realized, unable to help a smile. Not that Dick could blame him--he was the same way. He couldn’t count how many times Tim had walked into his room to talk to him before spinning on his heel to walk right back out with his hands thrown up in the air and a fierce blush creeping up his neck, asking Dick to let him know when he’d put something on a shirt, a sheet, anything so that he could speak to him in some semblance of decency.

Then again, Tim was on the other side of the spectrum: Dick had a hard time understanding how Tim showered at all with how self-conscious he was, seeing how he hated leaving the house with more than an inch of skin showing. Bruce had to more or less blackmail Tim into the more revealing dresses he wore. Tim slept in baggy sweats and Dick’s old shirts, which were practically a tent on him, and never wore anything less than a tank top and shorts to the beach and never left the safety of the umbrella’s shade, no matter how much Dick whined and pleaded.

In any case, Dick took delight in having met a kindred spirit in this regard.

“There you are, you little fuckers,” Jason crowed at last, and raised his arms in victory, two small bags clutched in each first--coffee beans, Dick realized quickly, and he couldn’t help but laugh as the mystery of coming back to Jason’s apartment was answered at last.

“So _you’re_ the owner of the legendary cuppa I’ve heard so much about,” Dick teased good humoredly but only because it was true. Most of the walk over, Jason had sworn up and down that this coffee was so good, it was a crime to drink it anyway but black--“and once you’ve gone black, you never go back” Jason had declared confidently.

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Jason grinned, jumping up to wander over to the kitchenette, dropping the bags of beans on the tiny counter as he went digging through the equally tiny cabinets, grabbing two mugs before digging through another one. “You wanted the best, you’re getting the best. You just so happened to stumble across Gotham’s classiest manwhore on your journey for the one cup to rule them all, so today’s your lucky day--’cause this guy only drinks the best coffee the world has the offer.”

Dick’s grin faded and he meant to frown as he rebuked Jason for his self deprecating words, but instead his eyes widened and his jaw dropped and what came out instead was “Is Narnia in your cupboard, because what even, how does that even work” when Jason pulled out a monstrosity of an espresso machine from the small cabinet.

“Bitch, Aslan’s got nothing to do with it, I’m a fucking wizard,” Jason shot back readily, thunking the machine down on the counter, which gave a cranky sounding groan at the weight now balanced precariously upon it as Jason plugged it in.

“No shit,” Dick laughed, shaking his head helplessly as he finally ventured past the doorway to get a closer look, half sitting half leaning against the back of the sofa to watch as Jason (again, impossibly) managed to squeeze the two mugs that were much too big to be meant to be espresso cups beneath the machine. Only then did Jason turn to walk the few steps over to his guest, gracing Dick with a solemn look as he thrust the two bags in Dick’s face.

“Do you want elixir A of Sumatra, or elixir B of Ethiopia? There is no right option,” Jason informed Dick helpfully, “because they are both orgasms in the mouth.”

“God, you make it hard to choose,” Dick replied seriously, mouth twitching at the corners as he struggled not to break into a smile. “Mm, surprise me.”

Jason nodded, seemingly pleased. “Congratulations, you pass.”

Dick blinked. “It was possible to fail?”

Jason snorted and rolled his eyes as he tossed whatever option A had been off to the side and poured some beans into the built-in grinder. “When isn’t failure possible?” Dick couldn’t help but shrug as he nodded, helpless, because yeah, it was true--and actually somewhat deep, too. Dick couldn’t help but think that Jason and Tim would get along well, with all this deep sounding snark. “You chose the Master’s advice, which, although I never explicitly stated as a choice, was obviously an option, and is always the right choice.”

With that, Jason flicked the machine on, leaning against the wall as he studied Dick critically, the machine gurgling quietly in the background. “Pretty boy, you’re a fucking enigma, you know that?” Dick blinked and opened his mouth to ask “how so?” but then Jason went on. “You’re just like they say, but at the same time, you’re nothing at all like they say. The fuck. You’re like Schrodinger's fucking cat. Two different possibilities existing simultaneously, one no more wrong or right than the other.” 

Jason scratched his head thoughtfully as he stared at Dick contemplatively. A few of the strands fell in into his eyes and out of the place they’d been gelled and styled into, but Jason made no move to coax them back.

Dick gave a slightly bittersweet smile and gave a short, sad laugh. “Well, _‘they’ve’_ only met part of me,” he explained, smile going a little wistful. “The part of me that they _want_ to see.”

He felt the smile waver and the way that Jason’s frown seemed to deepen in response, and he was quick to put on an easy smile for him--because how many times had be been tired all the way down to his bones yet still had hours of smiling to do for the cameras?--but he had to look away from Jason to manage it, instead staring down at his feet, toeing his shoes together.

“It’d be nice if _they_ could meet all of me, but it’s not possible. Not when _they_ just want the perfect part. The part that’s made up of the smiles that get practiced in the mirror an hour before I go out, and the part made up of manners and etiquette that took years to program into me. _They_ don’t want the part that reminds them that I was once a broken little orphan who was raised by gypsies and _they_ certainly don’t want the part that reminds them that I’m just as imperfect as they rest of the human race--”

He was interrupted suddenly when, in the blink of an eye, Jason was pressed against him, grabbing his chin and jerking his head up, and Dick choked on the rest of his words. With dawning horror, he suddenly realized that he’d started rambling and his voice had gotten tight-- he hastened to make sure his smile was still in place and of course it was, why wouldn’t it be (after all, it was perfect), so why was Jason caught between a scowl and a look that was almost... pitying?

“Get that fucking phony smile off your face, Dick,” Jason said quietly but vehemently, his thumb tracing over the seam of Dick’s lips. Dick’s lips parted reflexively, but the readied protest died in his throat as quickly as it had formed, his racing thoughts of “how did he know how could he tell no one but _Tim Bruce Alfred_ can tell _how can he tell how **how**_ ” screeching to a halt as Dick’s tongue just brushed the calloused pad of Jason’s finger. His skin tasted of salt, warm tones of espresso and something darker and muskier that Dick couldn’t help but think tasted startlingly like Gotham. Both of them shivered.

The two stared at each other in a suddenly heated silence as the coffee maker gave a last few gurgles before falling completely silent. The only sound offering a break from the tense quiet was the perpetual, almost forgettable wail of sirens in the distance.

After what felt simultaneously like just a few short seconds and a small eternity, Jason gave a small, muffled sound deep in his throat before grabbing Dick’s head and jerking him in for a kiss that was more teeth than lips, coarse than caring, and everything that Dick needed to pull him into it with little more than a strangled moan of surprise.

“Fuck,” Jason swore, both he and Dick panting heavily after a good few minutes of not-quite-kissing-more-like-plundering where both parties involved refused to stop for breath, only pulling away mutually, reluctantly, when it became absolutely necessary, both flushed and dizzy with lack of oxygen. “And sometimes I think _I’ve_ got it rough. _Aah_ \--no, shut up, it’s not your fucking turn,” Jason cut in before Dick could protest. 

“ _Jesus_ , and here I never thought _I’d_ feel better off than a _fucking billionaire_. At least _I_ don’t have to flip a fucking _switch_ on the moment anyone’s looking--no one cares if you don’t bother with a game face when they’re paying for you so long as you give ‘em what they want,” Jason snapped, but his touch was soft and his eyes were full of fierce protectiveness as he cupped Dick’s cheek. Dick couldn’t help but let his eyes slip closed and he leaned into the touch. “It’s no wonder you’d rather take a walk on the wild side to get away from it all, _fuck_...”

“It’s fine,” Dick breathed against Jason’s palm, pressing his lips to the work-hardened flesh and smiling a little despite himself as he tasted a hint of motor oil. “I get a family out of it. I get a dad and a little brother. It’s worth it. It’ll always be worth it,” he murmured against Jason’s skin, melting against the other man a little more when Jason's nails dragged lightly along his neck as his fingers curled reflexively, and he raised his arms to wrap around Jason’s neck as his knees threatened to buckle. “Wouldn’t trade ’em for the world.”

“Must be some fucking amazing people,” Jason grumbled, but his attention was quickly moving from expressing his righteous anger to lavishing attention on the body practically begging for attention pinned beneath him. His arms moved to circle Dick’s waist and he shifted their combined weight in a confidently practiced movement so smoothly that the next thing Dick knew, they had gone from leaning _against_ the couch to laying _on_ the couch in a sudden tumble of movement. 

It happened too quickly for Dick to fully process, and he found himself opening and closing his mouth, blinking speechlessly up at Jason with an expression that _felt_ as bewildered as he knew it must look, so he had no reason to question Jason bursting into snickers.

“You sure I’m not the only _client_ you brought home?” Dick teased gently, reaching up to curl his fingers into Jason’s black hair.

“Excuse you--I never said you were the _only one_ , just that I didn’t bring home _any old_ clients. I’m pretty fucking sure if we had a poll, a _fucking Wayne_ would be included in the list of _not just any old client_ ,” Jason grinned right back, before reclaiming Dick’s mouth with abandon before he could reply, groaning into his mouth with satisfaction as whatever retort Dick had prepared was abandoned in favor of responding just as eagerly.

“ _Shit_ , you’re not bad, Goldie,” Jason rasped as they pulled away slowly to pant for breath again, resting his forehead against Dick’s, teal eyes boring into Dick’s darkened blue ones.

“Mm, you’re not bad yourself, but then again I don’t think I’ve got the right to be surprised,” Dick replied playfully, still trying to catch his breath, chest hitching in shallow breaths.

“So, what kinda moves have you got in your arsenal to lure those haughty socialites into your bed?” Jason purred into Dick’s ear, and it was all Dick could do not to keen loudly as Jason curled his tongue around the sensitive shell. He couldn’t quite muffle a whimper when he took the lobe between his teeth, though, rolling the flesh gingerly between them.

“Oh, maybe a trick or two,” Dick said breathlessly as he arched up to give a sensual roll of his hips, grinding slowly against the taller man. Dick couldn’t swallow a sharp gasp of arousal as Jason bit down unexpectedly hard on the lobe at the tease, and they both shuddered as Dick pressed their bodies flush together.

“Well, well, well--that doesn’t seem quite like a move you’d pull for the ladies; could it be Gotham’s celebrity sweetheart would rather play for the other team?” Jason smirked as he pushed his hands up beneath Dick’s baggy sweater and tee shirt, fingers roaming over the skin beneath appreciatively. Dick shivered into the touch with a tremulous laugh, and Jason admired the way Dick’s muscles flexed beneath his touch as he raked his nails lightly over his abs.

“I’m not one to swing just one way, I prefer a broader playing field-- _nghh_ ,” Dick trailed off, lashes fluttering against cheeks self-consciously flushed pink as a breathy mewl escaped when Jason rubbed his thumbs over his nipples but he arched into the touch, fingers trembling where they were curled into the soft fabric of Jason’s shirt.

“Mm, I bet your Daddy’s real happy that you're an all around people pleaser,” Jason grinned. “Makes sense, though, explains why I’ve seen you with guys and dolls alike in the magazines,” Jason clarified, sniggering at the roll of Dick’s eyes even as he smiled. “It’s pretty rare, having a celebrity so open about their fluid sexuality...you must have a pretty good repertoire to offer, if you’re in such high demand from both teams,” Jason remarked casually, and Dick’s smile only grew.

“Oh, honey. I’m flattered, I really am, you really know what to say to make love to a guy’s ego, but I could out talk you any day,” Dick smiled sweetly, promise in his eyes. Jason arched an eyebrow. 

“You sound pretty certain ’bout that, pretty boy,” Jason purred, his voice dropping back to that same, velvety purring tone dripping sex appeal that had Dick’s pants growing tight earlier in the evening. “You sure you wanna bet against a guy who’s living is seduction on the streets?” Jason went on, ducking his head to mouth and lick along Dick’s jaw for good measure.

Dick moaned softly at the ministrations and his eyes went hazy, but there was was a knowing smirk curling the corners of his lips, and he let out a slow, sweet sigh. “Oh, Jason,” Dick murmured in a warm, smooth voice like honey, and Jason had to pause at the sudden unwavering strength in Dick’s tone that hadn’t been there even a second ago. “I could make love to you all night. I could just drown in you, and I’d die happily like that. Of course, I’d let you have me many, many times before it came to that,” Dick murmured, and Jason felt drawn to meet Dick’s eyes, his breath catching at the way they shone with sincerity. Slowly, Dick shifted so that they were sitting upright, holding Jason’s gaze the entire time, and Jason was inexplicably captivated.

“I’d crawl on top of you--just like this,” Dick said, voice barely more than a whisper, as he eased Jason down onto his back this time, and straddled Jason’s lean frame, before leaning in to brush his lips over Jason’s throat, letting his tongue flick against Jason’s skin with every other word. 

“I’d let you lie back and I’d do all the work. I’d spread my legs for you,” here, Dick rocked his erection into Jason’s, letting out a small whimper, swallowing audibly before he went on. “I’d strip for you, nice and slow...” again, Dick paused to slowly lift his sweater and shirt up and over his head, the fabric whispering as it slipped to the floor, forgotten by both parties as Dick slowly slid his hands down his slides, giving his hips another slow rock against Jason’s, who was gazing up at Dick with slightly wide eyes, darkened with fascinated desire as he hung on to each and every word. 

“I’d let you have me however you wanted--if you wanted it slow, gentle, sweet, I could work myself open for you, add fingers as you told me to, listen to every word you say. I’d come when you told me to,” Dick promised softly, fingertips dipping just beneath the hem of his faded jeans. He watched Jason’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed thickly, and his tongue darted out to wet his dry lips. 

Then, thoughtfully, coyly, Dick cocked his head, eyes lowering to half mast. “Or, you could make it rough--I’m not made of glass, I could take it,” he murmured huskily, teeth catching his lower lip between his teeth before letting it slowly slide free, leaving it slick in the low light. “You could push me down, have me on my hands and knees, and pound me into the ground until I came without you ever touching me. I’m known to do that.” A slow, easy smirk pulled at his lips when Jason’s chest jerked as he sucked in a harsh breath through his nose as his words.

“Whatever you wanted,” Dick almost sighed, trailing a finger lazily down Jason’s chest, “You could have it. Could have me at your beck and call all night long. I’m yours for the evening, and I make it a point to _never_ leave my lovers wanting,” and with that, Dick leaned in so that his chin was propped up on Jason’s chest, eyes sparkling mischievously as he felt Jason’s clothed arousal hot where it was pressed against his stomach, and he couldn’t help but rub against him a little bit just to make Jason’s breath hiss through his teeth at the friction.

 _“Well. Fuck. Me.”_ Jason rasped, sounding aroused to the point of painful, “I haven’t come that close to creaming my pants since I was a _teenager_ ,” Jason laughed, the tone dark and husky. His eyes were nearly all black by this point, with only the faintest hint of blue-green around the edges. Dick dipped his head in a mock bow, smiling slyly, but he shifted his hips against Jason’s thigh as he bit his lip, searching for some friction of his own; he was easily just as aroused as Jason.

Jason raised his leg slightly in response, watching through his lashes as Dick dropped his forehead to rest against his collarbone with a thin moan as he ground against him desperately, and Jason tangled a hand into the longer strands at the nape of Dick’s neck to tug his head back up so their eyes met; his eyebrows raised appreciatively at the way Dick’s cock twitched against his thigh at the hint of rougher treatment, and his voice came out in an almost predatory growl.

“And while that silver tongue and pretty mouth of yours are _very_ sweet, I think I can come up with a few better uses you could put that mouth to,” Jason drawled, lips breaking into a wide grin full of promise that had Dick shivering even with how warm that air between their panting mouths was now.

“I bet you could,” Dick intoned right back, looking up at him with interest in his eyes. “What did you have in mind?”

Jason’s grin went even wider as he carded a hand slowly through Dick’s hair and the older man leaned into the touch like a trained house cat. “Well, I was thinkin’ I’d really like it if you blew me, fixed the problem you so shamelessly _raised_ , but that’s not normally how these things work, so how about you let me take you up on that offer and I spread you out on the rug and give you your money’s worth?”

There was a distinct pause during which both of them froze, the air becoming too thick for the first time that night. Dick didn’t look away from those captivating eyes full of something unidentifiable as he spoke softly. “I haven’t paid you, Jason. I can if you want me to, I don’t want you to think that I--”

“ _Fuck_ , no, Dickie. I didn’t mean that.” His hand left its path through Dick’s hair and repeated the same motion through his own. “I don’t want you paying me for cheap some talk, a cup of Joe, and something that I’d want anyway.” The grin turned dangerous as he tipped his head back slightly, appraising the man that lay on top of him. “Though if you wanted to do it for free, I wouldn’t stop you. Everyone in this town lusts after you. Couldn’t lie to you and say I’m not one of them.”

Dick’s laugh was easy but slightly breathless at the idea of a taste of what was under him. “Wouldn’t mind if you offered, but I don’t get fully naked until at least the second date, Jay. I might be a whore, but I’m not a _whore_.” Dick winked before the entire implication of his statement hit him then his cheeks flushed hot in embarrassment as he quickly tried to backtrack, sitting up and bracing his hands on Jason’s broad stomach. “Shit, no, I didn’t...not that there’s anything wrong with...Jason, I _swear_ \--”

“Stop it before you hurt yourself, Jesus.” He was smiling just as easy as before as he crossed both hands behind his head on the couch. “No offense taken. I know what you mean and I appreciate that you identify yourself with such a _noble_ breed as myself.”

Dick returned Jason’s smile, relieved and more than a little sheepish. “God, and here I was, priding myself on my smooth talking skills,” Dick muttered wryly, and Jason snorted good humoredly, eyes laughing at how flustered he was. Dick’s eyes softened, reassured by Jason’s smile that he really hadn’t gone and hurt him, and his lips curved into a melting smile. 

“I’d love it if you’d let me make it up to you, if it’s all the same to you,” Dick said softly, earnestly, before leaning in to brush his lips over the strong line of Jason’s jaw, trailing barely-there kisses down his neck, only stopping just above the collar of Jason’s shirt, lavishing attention all along his collarbone. 

He smiled against Jason’s skin when he heard the other man swear quietly above him at his ministrations, strong hands brushing down his sides to grip at his hips loosely. His fingers twitched at his sides whenever Dick discovered more sensitive spots--sometimes making his breath hitch in desire, other times makings him huff out a laugh. 

“You change your naked rule so soon?” Jason asked, lifting his head to arch an eyebrow at Dick as his hands slipped confidently beneath his shirt, fingers splaying appreciatively over his abs before he methodically eased it up. Dick returned the look with a coy smile.

“I said I don’t get naked--I didn’t say _anything_ about you,” Dick threw back, but he laughed. “But seriously--I don’t see anything wrong with a little _above the belt_ touching, do you?” Dick hummed, dipping his head down to press a soft kiss to Jason’s belly, and he raised his eyes to meet Jason’s inquiringly. 

“Even if I did, you’re making a pretty convincing point, Goldie,” Jason grinned even as he shivered, eyes fluttering a little as Dick’s nimble fingers drew invisible patterns along their slow trek upwards, exploring the new expanse of exposed flesh--tracing scars as they were uncovered by touch. 

His fingers came to a stuttering halt, though, as his fingertips ran unexpectedly over metal. Dick blinked a few uncomprehending times, staring in confusion at Jason’s smirk, before his mouth parted in a small _‘oh’_ of surprise and dawning realization.

Any and all ceremony about it was shoved aside as Dick scrambled to shove Jason’s shirt up to his shoulders to explore this new development. Two seemingly innocent metal piercings glinted back up at him.

“Um. Uh. Nipples,” Dick stammered helpfully, blue eyes wide as they stared into Jason’s laughing ones.

“ _Good for you_ , Dick, that’s _very_ good--those are my nipples. I have them. Just like _you_ do, and the entire fucking human race,” Jason replied sweetly, enunciating each word slowly and carefully as he waited patiently for Dick to come back to his senses.

It took a few more tries of Dick opening and closing his mouth speechlessly, a weak whimper the closest thing to a coherent sound he could manage, before he shook his head and leaned in closer to examine the piercings, apparently giving up on words for the moment in favor of turning his attention wholly to his apparently new-found kink.

Still dumbstruck, Dick brushed his thumbs over the small studs--not just studs, Dick realized suddenly, but tiny, intricate wings, they were really very pretty between his fingers and he wondered distantly if they’d taste as nice as they looked - and his attention jerked back to Jason’s face when he hissed softly. 

Words finally seemed to come back to the socialite, and they came back in a babbling, barely coherent jumble. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t think--I just--did that hurt?” he finished, voice nearly a squeak by the time he clamped his mouth shut to stop the tirade of panicked words. 

Jason snorted. “You’d have to do a _lot_ more to hurt me than _that_ , pretty boy. Nah, you didn’t hurt me, ‘s just sensitive. Feels real good. Oh--unless you meant if it hurt when I _got_ them -- fuck, now _that_ hurt like a _bitch_. I don’t think I’ve ever cried since, there’s really nothin’ that tops getting _pierced in the fucking nipple_ ,” he added matter of factly, still clearly delighted in having veritably KO’d Dick’s composure.

“ _Fuck_ , that’s hot. Why is that so hot?” Dick moaned helplessly once he’d finally regained both his senses and control of his mouth, and he leaned in to tease one of the studs with his tongue, while he gently tugged at the other. Arousal thrummed through him as the curious, exploratory touches had Jason arching beneath him, curses falling from his lips in a breathless mantra. Encouraged, Dick caught the metal into his mouth to suckle on while he tweaked the other one hard between his fingers. The volume of Jason’s curses rose accordingly, but his voice also cracked for the first time, and the sharp sounds and the softer tang of metal on his tongue went straight to Dick’s cock.

“F-fuck,“ Jason panted, his eyes squeezed shut and his head tipping back to thunk against the arm of the couch, his fingers clenched into the fabric of the sofa as Dick lavished attention on his nipples and it was all he could do not to buck the both of them off the couch. He tried to laugh, incredulous at the response his piercings had garnered from the other man. “If I’da known this was such a _thing_ for you--”

“Jason,” Dick said, letting go of the abused metal with a loud, wet popping sound to fix Jason with an almost dry look. “ _I_ didn’t know this was a _thing_ for me until about ten seconds ago.”

“I would’a given you an even _better_ treat,” Jason went on, as if Dick had never spoken. “ _Shit_ , I’m only wearing few pieces of metal right now--this is only a tiny slice of it. I can’t imagine how crazy you’d go if I’d gone all out.” A wide smirk split Jason’s lips as Dick’s head jerked up, eyes shocked and silently begging. 

“ _Oh_ yeah, there’s more to it than just _this_ , Dickie, I just never pictured you as one to go for it, Mister Goody Two Shoes,” he teased, answering the unspoken question.

“There’re outfits I wear to show off all this body art,” Jason purred, “and when I dress to impress, I’m a _damn_ hot commodity, if I say so myself. Hell, I’d go so far as to say I look just as delectable as _you_ do when you play dress up for Daddy’s parties,” Jason challenged, eyes and smirk darkening with want at the thought.

“Because you do look absolutely _edible_ in the photos--candid or not, you look like sex on legs. You’re practically walking _suit porn_. It’s no wonder sales shoot right up for all the designer threads you wear to your parties. Everyone wants to impress like Dick Grayson,” Jason teased, eyes roving over Dick’s body appreciatively. “Fuck everyone, even _I’d_ give an arm and a leg for a chance to unwrap you from one of your bespoke suits.” Jason felt more than heard Dick’s breath hitch, and he cocked his head, eyeing his flushed face and practically undressing the other man with his gaze.

“Oh, do you like that idea? Would you like that?” Jason asked softly, and he _almost_ managed to come of as innocent, save for the hungry look in his eyes. He slowly eased himself up, and leaned in to press his lips to the side of Dick’s throat, teeth grazing his flawless skin. “Do you like the idea of me ripping your suit apart, right outside of a gala, shoving your pants down and shoving you against a wall and fucking you till you’re too hoarse to give so much as a toast, let alone those practiced, perfect speeches?“ Dick ground shamelessly against him now, head tipped back as moans escaped his swollen, kiss bitten lips--and Jason was more than happy to reciprocate, gyrating their hips together in a slow, easy rhythm he had down to an art.

“God, what would you Daddy dearest say if he knew where you were now, Golden Boy?” Jason panted into Dick’s ear, eliciting a high pitched keen as he sucked the lobe between his teeth to suckle and bite at sharply, shuddering himself as Dick wrapped his arms around Jason’s neck and clung tight, closing what little distance was between them and creating delicious friction that caught and pulled so hard, so good at the studs on Jason’s chest. 

“If he-- _ngh!_ -knew ‘bout where you’d slunk off to tonight? That you were hung up on one of the lowliest citizens--one of the charity cases he has you attesting for at all those galas?--for their desperation and _nnh_ \--need for the charity and k-kind heartedness of others--case in point _yours truly_?”

Jason wasn’t quite sure what it was that he had said, but it was as if he’d flipped a switch.

He quickly became aware of two things:

1.) Dick had gone stock still in his arms, and

2.) then Dick wasn’t in his arms any longer.

“Oh shit, _oh_ shit, _oh shit_ ,” Dick chanted as he scrambled out of Jason’s grasp with such an admirable display of agility and flexibility that Jason found himself quickly bypassing the usual hissy fit stage at the unwarned interrupted and going straight to blinking in a kind of respectful shock at the panicking man whose hands were fumbling at his pockets for his phone. 

Upon grabbing it, he allowed for a slew of colorful curses to spill from his lips as he nearly dropped it, juggling the device for a good five seconds before he got a firm handle on the slippery plastic. He slammed his password into the cell impatiently before tapping away furiously, searching for something.

“Fuck me,” Dick swore as he found whatever it was he was looking for, and he chucked the phone down into the cushions as he tipped over suddenly and dropped his head into Jason’s lap with an odd, choking sound most commonly heard in the wild courtesy of a dying animal. 

Jason watched the entire display with somewhat wide eyes, his eyebrows slowly creeping higher and higher until they were raised so high they were hidden behind his mused bangs. When Dick’s face landed in his lap, they went completely flat.

“Yeah, well that’s what we were well on our way to doing before you oh so helpfully collapsed into a panic attack. At least, I think it’s a panic attack. I dunno, I’ve only known you about an hour. Maybe you’re just prone to these sincerely fucked up moments of weirdness.” Jason shrugged, his hand reaching beneath one of the couch pillows before he withdrew an almost empty pack of cigarettes, offering them by letting them plop onto Dick’s head.

“I’m _doomed_ ,” Dick moaned unhelpfully, as he scooted back enough to lift his head to let the box slide off. He wrinkled his nose at them before shooting a weak glare up at his acquaintance. “And you’ll be, too, if you keep that habit up--Jason, those are _terrible_ for you.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Save it for someone who cares, pretty boy. And I’m pretty sure your apparent _‘doom’_ is far more imminent than the hazards that my filthy habit brings,” he shrugged, lifting one to his lips and scowling when Dick immediately rolled onto his back to pluck it from his lips then angrily when Dick promptly snapped it in half and dropped it to the floor. 

“Those are fuckin’ _expensive_ , you _ass_.”

“I’ll pay you a tenner each, right now, for each one you throw out if you promise to throw the remainder away” Dick said seriously, ignoring Jason’s startled expression, before he went on.

“I’m sorry, Jay--I really am, it’s just--you reminded me that I have a gala to go to tomorrow night, and absolutely _no one_ to go with,” Dick sighed, rubbing the heels of his hands over his eyes wearily before pressing them against his temples as he frowned, thinking hard. “Anyone I _could_ have asked last minute would’ve made sure they had a date _hours_ ago, like a _smart, responsible_ person,” he groaned, hands sliding down to rub at his cheeks agitatedly.

Jason stared. “You’re shitting me, right? How the fuck does that even happen--aren’t you, like, impossible to get a date with? You’re one of Gotham’s most eligible bachelors, heir to a billionaire’s trust fund, and you’re telling me _you can’t fucking get a date?_ ” Jason shook his head, huffing an incredulous laugh. “Wow--you’re actually somewhat _mortal_ like the rest of us desperate single men. I can’t believe I’m hearing this right now. Okay, no, wait--not _every_ date you arrange to go with is part of, I dunno, some grand master plan of your entrepreneurial father’s, with some ulterior motives?

His conspiracy theory startled a laugh out of Dick.

“Uh, you’re surprisingly, and maybe slightly alarmingly intuitive, Jay -- but no, not every date is arranged with ulterior intent,” Dick smiled a bit wistfully. “Every so often, it’s all up to _me_ to choose who I wanna ask to prom,” he joked, but there was a hint of frustration in his eyes. “And, like a total idiot, I totally bungled this chance. I could’ve asked Roy, or Kory, hell, even Timmy to go with me, and I wouldn't be bored out of my skull. _Damnit_ ,” Dick moaned again, ruffling his tousled hair furiously, “Dick Grayson does _not_ go to parties alone, it’s _unheard of-- **oh!**_ ”

And suddenly--just as suddenly as Dick had flopped down--Dick was scrambling to his knees to face Jason, bouncing delightedly on the cushy pillows beneath him.

“ _Jason_ \--could you--uh, _would you_ wanna maybe gotothegalawithme?” Dick asked in such an excited, hopeful rush that Jason had to pause and rewind the words in his head to play them back in half-time. His eyes widened as he realized Dick had extended the invitation to him.

“ _Fuck_ , you’re not serious are you?” Jason immediately said, backtracking when he saw Dick’s face crumple as if someone had told him the world was ending. “Hey, hey--I never said no, I just--I mean, why would you wanna take _me_ , I mean--s’like I said, you could take fucking _anyone_ ,” Jason stammered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. 

The crushed look on Dick’s face vanished to be replaced with the sunniest smile Jason had ever fucking seen. “Yeah, and I wanna take _you_ , Jay--it’ll be fun! It’ll be like a trade,” Dick grinned, and Jason couldn’t help but notice with fond exasperation that he was _still_ doing that annoying, yet remarkably enduring, bouncing on his knees. “You showed me around your neck of the woods, so now I’ll show you mine!”

Jason barked a laugh, and scrubbed the back of his head furiously. “Not much of a trade, Dickie, but I’d be a fuckin’ idiot not to know better than to take it,” he replied cheekily, unable to stifle another chuckle when Dick whooped in delight, scrambling for his phone to type something, presumably a message, furiously into it.

“But hey--before I forget, you gotta give me a heads up now about metal detectors,” Jason said suddenly, making Dick glance up at him with a curious frown, fingers still flying across the keyboard of his phone. 

“Huh? How d’ya mean?” Dick replied slowly, puzzled.

“I mean-- _are_ there or _aren’t_ there metal detectors at Wayne Manor?” Jason asked, “‘Cause I've got a few piercings it'd be a bit _awkward_ to try and remove in public," he explained, grinning wolfishly from ear to ear as Dick’s fingers slowed to a stunned stop on his phone, until it was hanging limply in his hand as Dick stared at him. 

He looked like he was torn somewhere between dropping to his knees in submission and tearing Jason’s clothes off in his mission to see for himself. “I-- uh-- _nnnooo_...there aren’t...any...metal detectors.” It was a clear struggle for Dick to string the words together, and Jason smirked as Dick sent his message and slipped his phone back into his pocket as he stumbled hastily about to grab his long since abandoned shirt, shoes, and sweatshirt. Jason looked on in blatant amusement.

“And just what do you think _you’re_ doing, Dick?”

“Um, well, not gonna lie--right now I’m striving very hard to maintain _your_ virtue and _my_ naked on the _second_ date rule. Not the first, the _second_ ,” Dick repeated, but that time, it was clearly directed at himself, as he reluctantly pulled on his shirt and sweater. “And if that means I gotta leave, so be it--it’s getting pretty late, anyway, and if I don’t get home before midnight, my Dad is _not_ above sending out the GCPD to find me, as he’s proven in the past,” Dick added the last bit in a (fond) grumble.

“Hey,” Jason barked suddenly, and Dick paused, blinking up at him from where he’d leaned down to start to slip his shoes on. Jason gave him a long hard look, just because he could, before he smirked.

“You’re fooling yourself if you think I’m letting you outta here without drinking your best ever cuppa,” he said. “I’m not wasting a perfectly brewed cup of elixir of life on even _your_ sweet, rich, socialite ass.”

Dick blinked, and then laughed--a clear, bright sound that Jason was starting to think he’d like to hear more of, maybe every day, maybe for the rest of his life. Dick had taken all of one sip of the (now lukewarm) espresso, promptly made a sound that Jason would bet money on wasn’t a far cry from an actual orgasm, and drained the rest of his cup in one impressive gulp. Jason couldn’t even rebuke him for not savoring it--he threw back all of his in one swig as well.

They talked and laughed about everything and nothing until Dick looked down at his phone, rolling his eyes and sighing through a smile as he got up to peer out the window, immediately shaking his head good humoredly when he glanced outside. Jason couldn’t _not_ shuffle up behind Dick after that, and he let out a long, low whistle at the Lincoln Town Car outside, glistening in contrast to the dull, beat-up used cars haphazardly parked along the curb.

“The fuck is that?” Jason asked slowly, eyebrows shooting up as an older man stepped out of the car, resting a hand on the driver’s door and looking, pointedly, right up at them. 

Not just up _at_ them, though, but _right at them_ \--Jason made _eye contact_ with the man.

The chastising yet patient look he gave him made him feel like he was a four year old with his hand caught in the the cookie jar, and he couldn’t help but wince and look down at his feet as he was hit with the absurd compulsion to walk right down there and apologize to him.

“That would be Alfred,” Dick said fondly, but his expression pretty much looked just like Jason felt. “He’s our butler.”

“The butler. Obviously. Of course it’s your fucking butler,” Jason deadpanned, blinking at the look Dick sent him.

“Don’t curse and use Alfred’s name in the same sentence,” Dick chastised softly. “It’s not decent,” he added in a quieter mumble.

“But _how the fuck_ did he know you were _here?_ ” Jason demanded, scandalized.

This time, Dick was the one replying in a deadpan. “Bruce insists on GPS trackers in our phones.”

 _“Shit,”_ Jason breathed, before returning his gaze out the window to the pristinely dressed butler, looking hilariously out of place amongst the graffiti and broken glass. 

“I gotta go, but I make it a point to never leave without a proper kiss goodnight,” Dick lilted sweetly, suddenly, and before he could blink, Jason was being tugged aside and pressed up against the wall in a slow, passionate, melting kiss, that Dick only broke away from with a groan when his phone gave another telltale buzz, resting his forehead against Jason’s and smiling warmly.

“See you tomorrow, Jay,” Dick murmured against Jason’s lips, before he was thudding down the stairs, leaving Jason leaning against the wall, staring at the closed door like an idiot. 

The sound of the car outside purring back to life broke Jason from his dazed reverie. He turned his head just enough to peer outside, following the car with his eyes until it disappeared around the corner, quiet reclaiming the night until the next wail of sirens came screeching down the block.

And then Jason snorted. At first, it grew into a chuckle, but the next thing he knew he was sliding down the wall to sit on the floor, laughing uproariously because, well, all that had just happened and also because, against all logic and astronomically improbable odds--

He had a date with Dick Grayson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we've got Jason on the scene now, and Dick's just about guaranteed him the ride of his life. Shenanigans are to follow at the gala, next chapter, and the Wayne heirs' lives may very well take a turn for the Much More Interesting.
> 
> If you're interested, this is Jason's piercing : http://www.bodyjewelleryshop.com/img/products/120_wbb-nipple-piercing-bar.jpg
> 
> ((I worried a little bit for samuraiflo this chapter. I didn't realize she had such a die-hard thing for Jay with piercings. Then again neither did she. We figured it out pretty quickly when she just about spontaneously combusted into a puddle of fan-goo in the middle of reading over my work. I actually thought I killed her.))
> 
>  **Also,** exciting news; samuraiflo and I are going to AX this week!! We'll be cosplaying a buncha fandoms but our baby, our pride, our joy, is our group of genderbent steampunk'd!Robins!!! I'm (thoughtless_dreamer) going as Dickless Grayson, and she's (samuraiflo) going as Jay, and we have a Timantha and Damiene and we are just so excited. Maybe we'll get to see some of you lovely people there :D


	3. Devil's Work Done By Angels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason’s got a date with one of Gotham’s Most Wanted and he’s expecting craziness. The house call, though, was a bit unexpected. What is his life even. (Perfect.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Jason's suit: http://shop.nordstrom.com/s/boss-hugo-boss-ryan-win-extra-trim-fit-suit/3500762?BaseUrl=Extra-Trim&origin=category  
> This is his shirt: http://shop.nordstrom.com/s/hugo-slim-fit-cotton-stretch-dress-shirt/3369271?BaseUrl=Dress%20Shirts&origin=category  
> This is on his red tie: http://data.whicdn.com/images/30122254/Keep-Calm-and-suck-my-dick_large.jpg

It was a little surreal when Jason rolled out of bed to answer the door and found a man holding a large garment bag on the other side. As he blinked the sleep fully from his eyes, he realized it was the same man that had stared up at him and Dick the previous night. The older man’s clothes probably cost more than Jason could pull in a during a good week and he had this air of quiet dignity around him. The dust seemed to part around him, too scared to sully his perfectly pressed coat or muss his styled hair. Jason still had that same feeling of being examined but, strangely, he didn’t feel any judgement. As he stood there in his boxers and sleep-tousled hair, all he felt from this man was a serene curiosity and genuine warmth.

With a self-conscious scratch at one leg with the other foot, he stepped back, murmuring a quiet “um, come in?” as he moved to allow the man inside. Even on the creaky floorboard right inside the door, the man’s footsteps made no noise as he inclined his head and stepped inside Jason’s apartment.

Feeling decidedly underdressed for company in just his boxers, Jason started looking around for a place the man could set the bag that wasn’t either dirty or covered with books. It proved a bit more difficult than expected and Jason started to feel as if his apartment wasn’t going to pass muster for this man who he suddenly wanted very much to impress. He noticed the leftover takeout containers littering the small table with new eyes and hastened to clear them off.

“There’s no need for that, Master Jason,” the man intoned and Jason very nearly jumped out of his skin at both the unexpected comment and the fact that the man _knew his name._ “If you’ll show me to your room, please.”

Hesitantly, Jason walked down the very small hallway and pushed open the door to his room, grateful that he tried most days to keep the space. The man (their butler, Dick had called him) walked into the room and hung the bag up on the back of the door before stepping out with a small inclination of his head. “If you’d be so kind as to try that on in case it does not fit. I will wait in your kitchen if you have no objections.”

At Jason’s confused nod the man turned and walked silently back towards the kitchen. The younger went inside his room and closed the door, staring at the brand name bag, irrationally afraid to open it and see what was inside. After pacing between his makeshift closet and the bed, he reached up and slid the zipper down slowly.

The suit inside was a deep charcoal gray, almost black. When he reached out a tentative hand to touch it, the material felt soft and smooth under his fingertips. He pulled the two-button jacket forward and found a pair of pants and a perfectly pressed shirt behind them, but no tie. He did, however, find a small note at the bottom of the bag (next to a shoe box) that was written in a messy scrawl signed with Dick’s name.

_“Jay,_

_Didn’t want to make any assumptions, but in case you don’t have anything else to wear, this is for you. I hope I got your size right. If not, give it to Alfred and we can get you another one or have this one altered. Also, I didn’t give you a tie. I wanted you to have at least some say in how you looked. Can’t wait to see you tonight :)_

_Dick_

_P.S. In case you need me, you can reach me here.”_

Under that was scrawled a number with an area code of the richest part of the city. 

Despite himself, Jason smiled as he read the note, and absolutely grinned at the little smiley face Dick had added. Leave it to Dick to know his size in one meeting. Granted, they had been pressed _entirely_ against each other for an extended period of time. It wasn’t as surprising if he put it that way to himself. Hell, he could probably guess Dick’s size if need be. More so in some places than in others, granted, but in general he could guess Dick’s measurements. Made him sound a bit like a doll or something, but really he was _the_ Dick Grayson. He was on a pedestal for most of his existence, a walking, talking, Ken doll.

And Jason was going to a gala with him tonight.

It still didn’t seem real. It hadn’t seemed real last night but with the evidence of the other man’s wealth in front of him it seemed even more absurd. He paced back and forth between the door and the bed again, looking around him and considering his options. He couldn’t accept the suit. It was too expensive, too much too soon. He was accustomed to receiving small gifts from his Johns, things he could easily pawn to pay the rent or help feed the smaller kids on the block, but this...this could keep him off the streets for at least a month with how much it cost. It was as much as he could make from a long job, one where he’d be asked to stay overnight for days so the man or woman could do more things to him, sometimes things that left marks he couldn’t walk around with or hurt him so much he couldn’t walk away the next day. If he didn’t need the money he wouldn’t take those jobs, would hurt the people who dared to ask even more than they hurt him.

If he could live any other way, he would.

He didn’t mind the sex, didn’t even normally mind having different partners. Sometimes he even liked it. It was a weird thing to say about it, but sometimes it wasn’t all bad. Every once in a while he met someone who actually _cared_ if he enjoyed himself, if he even _finished._ His favorite was probably the one woman who’d hired him out solely to improve her blowjob skills to impress her husband. Getting paid to have someone blow you? Yeah, couldn’t really beat that. But mostly it was skeezy guys who denied they were gay even as they slapped his ass and pounded him into a moth-eaten mattress in some rundown, deserted hotel. 

This, though, was too much. He was going to one party, a party he’d never be invited to otherwise, and as far as he knew there was no sex involved. Well, not if he could help it, he thought wryly to himself with a small smirk as he remembered the feeling of Dick’s body against his own. But he was essentially functioning as arm candy, something that usually had a much lower rate than the value of this suit. He wanted to accept it, wanted desperately to put it on and feel worthy of it and just enjoy the night, enjoy the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be in Dick Grayson’s presence because he had _asked_ him there.

But he had a fucking conscience.

He snagged the note from the floor and was halfway through dialing Dick’s number on the disposable, non-traceable cell he kept for emergencies before he really thought about it. Thought about it and seriously considered what he would would be losing. What was one night of fun on the arm of society’s most eligible bachelor? He would have no problem dropping to his knees for the man in order to pay him back for the suit. Hell, if he was honest with himself he’d wanted to do that the night before. Yeah, he wanted those perfect, pristine lips full of his cock, but he also wanted to figure out exactly what the golden boy was packing in his little Boy Scout panties.

So...that settled it then. He was going and he was gonna offer himself up as much as Dick wanted to make himself feel better about wearing the suit. He’d also bring a change of clothes so that he didn’t have to take the suit home with him when he left in the morning. That way at least it’d be more like a loan than an actual gift. Assuming the damn thing fit.

With a sigh and a hand through his hair, Jason peeled the jacket, pants, and shirt out of the bag individually to place them with the utmost care onto his bed. He stepped into the pants and marveled at the way the fabric clung to him without sticking, flowed without being too loose, and just generally defied physics as they hung on his body. Without looking at himself, he pulled the shirt on and did up the buttons quickly, swallowing with a bit of difficulty and then undoing the top button. No need to choke himself with that at the moment. He shrugged into the jacket slowly, getting used to the crisp fabric on his arms as it stretched over his chest and back. Once it was on, he quickly did up the two buttons and smoothed his hand down the front, worrying away the non-existent wrinkles. 

Without turning to look in the mirror, Jason knew that the suit fit him well. He could feel it. It fit like nothing else in his closet did and he knew that was a good sign because most everything else he owned was either too tight for polite company or a few sizes too big so it was baggy and comfortable enough for him to wear around the house. This was somewhere in between. It fit tight enough against him so that he could feel the fabric of the jacket through the shirt but it was still loose enough for him to move his arms unhindered. The jacket had a bit more room in the front than the sides, and Jason assumed that was to accommodate the tie he would later have to add. The pants were long and unfinished at the cuff so he tripped over them a bit as he walked to the dingy, tarnished mirror leaning up against the wall by his door. 

Upon first glance, Jason’s first reaction to himself was a resounding chorus of “Well, fuck _me_ ”s followed closely by an overwhelming desire to grin like an idiot, which he then did. He looked good. _Damn_ good. He could still see himself underneath the expensive clothes, but he didn’t look quite so much like the street kid he was. The saying about clothes making the man seemed to be true because he didn’t look like another of the working kids from this stretch of the block. He looked like an eager young thing working in the downtown district of Gotham’s bustling social scene. He also really did look like an idiot with that giant grin splitting his face. 

Jason wasn’t sure exactly what to do at this point. What exactly was the social decorum when your not-date date sent his butler over with a perfectly fitting suit for you to wear when functioning as his arm candy that night? Jason’s grin turned a tad more dangerous as he thought about the possibilities. If Dick had been there, he’d have dropped to his knees (after removing the pants so as not to wrinkle them) and showed him exactly how much he appreciated the gesture. But since he wasn’t here and Jason wasn’t really into the older man thing, he figured he should maybe make his thanks known verbally to the other man instead of physically.

Trying not to step on the long hem of the pants, Jason walked as carefully as he could out into his kitchen area and did an actual double take at the space. He couldn’t have been in his room for more than ten minutes, fifteen tops, but in that span of time the space had been transformed. All his old take out containers were gone, along with most of the other trash that had littered his kitchen and the space around the sofa. All the books had been stacked in neat piles around his couch and the old bookcase that he’d forgotten he had. His counters were now clear enough that he could see the coffee rings on the old formica surface, as well as the few appliances he owned arranged neatly under his cupboards. All the cupboards now closed, even the one he hadn’t been able to close because the hinge was busted. The floor was a different color than he had ever seen it and his brain said “clean” while his eyes said “yellow, not brown” and traveled to the spotless fridge.

The older man--butler--Alfred--was standing at the sink by the fridge and paging through the newspaper like nothing had even happened and it was perfectly normal for him to be standing in Jason’s spotless kitchen. He looked up upon noticing Jason was in the room and spoke in his quiet, clear voice.

“Ah, Master Jason, that looks most becoming on you. Master Richard has good taste, I see.” For some reason, Jason felt he wasn’t talking about the suit. “If you would be so kind as to fetch the shoes that you are planning on wearing, I will take care of the unfinished hems for you.”

Wordlessly, Jason walked back into his room and grabbed the shoe box and a pair of socks before wandering back into the kitchen and sitting down on the proffered chair to put on both items. He remained quiet as the butler bustled soundlessly around the kitchen, straightening things that didn’t need to be straightened and grabbing a few things from the bag he had by the door until Jason stood up from tying the second shoe. 

Jason cleared his throat as the butler motioned for him to stand up on the chair. “I, um. Thank you. You didn’t have to clean my kitchen. It...it’s my problem, my shit.” He winced as the man looked up at him reprovingly at the curse word and Jason made a note to clean up his language. “But really. Thank you.”

“It’s not a problem, sir,” the older man replied, folding the cuff of the pant leg up until it was more properly sized. “I took the liberty of tidying up so you could have the rest of the evening free.” He pinned one cuff in place then moved on to the other one, repeating the process, tucking and pinning as he moved around Jason’s perch. “Master Richard is most excited that you will be accompanying him tonight. He barely sat still at the breakfast table this morning. Ah, there we go. If you would step down and change out of those, I will set the hem and then be out of your hair.”

In a slight daze, Jason stepped off the chair and walked back into his room to change out of everything. He hung the shirt and jacket back up on their hangars and put on a large shirt before stepping back out to the main room with the pants neatly folded over his arm. Alfred was seated at the table, the newspaper spread out over its surface as he presumably skimmed its contents. 

With a mental shake of his head at the massive amount of “what even” in his life, Jason stepped into the kitchen and cleared his throat. “I, um, changed.” It came out sounding like a question even to his own ears and the man sitting at his table quirked an eyebrow in response.

“I can see that.” Alfred stood up and brushed the non-existent dust off his trousers as he folded the newspaper then walked over to grab the pants from Jason’s arm. “If you will give me just a minute I will leave these with you before I leave.” He walked softly over to a bag by Jason’s door and began to remove a few things from different zippered pockets.

“I brought a few things for you upon Master Richard’s request. I’ve put them in your fridge with labels. I certainly hope you aren’t allergic to anything.” He talked as he worked, hands quickly moving over the fabric to sew the new hem in place. “He is quite excited to see you tonight and, as this is an abnormal situation, I feel that I must warn you of this. Please do not disappoint him. He will mope for weeks and, while I sense that your intentions may be...honorable in their own right, please do not take advantage of him.”

Jason held back a scoff. “Seriously? Take advantage of _him_? By going to this thing tonight I feel like I’m taking advantage of him. But sure, fine, I’ll go and not take advantage of him.” For a second Jason considering adding in something snide, something along the lines of _I’d never have to take advantage of him, he’s already willing_ , but his sense of propriety overcame the impulse and then he was being handed his pants, thanked, and the man was walking out of his apartment with a promise to see him later that night.

“What the fuck _even_?” he said to the empty, clean space before he fell face first onto the (for once) empty cushions of his couch.

* * *

Three hours later, Jason was dressed and ready to go, pacing inside the door of his apartment and wondering exactly how he was supposed to get to this gala on time since his ride had bailed on him. 

He’d spent most of the afternoon either on the phone with a girl from the neighborhood or off the phone trying desperately to not call Dick. While on one of those calls, a girl named Veronica had volunteered her boyfriend’s car to get Jason within walking distance of the Wayne estate. He’d stressed a bit less after that and had mostly laid on his couch for the majority of the afternoon, only taking a break to eat some of the truly delicious food that had been left in his fridge for breakfast, lunch, and then a late snack. The man really knew how to cook and Jason devoured the contents of three containers out of the almost ten left in his fridge. 

He also scrounged around and managed to find a tie, albeit a really wrinkled one, and he’d spent a good half hour trying to iron it using a hair straightener before giving up and just blow drying it and pressing it between two books. It wasn’t pretty but it would do. It was going to be under a jacket anyway, he told himself, so fuck it.

Twenty minutes before Veronica’s man toy was supposed to show up, she called to say they couldn’t come because she’d gotten a job and needed him to drive her upstate. While Jason didn’t blame her for taking the paycheck, he did feel a bit hurt that she hadn’t called sooner. For the past half hour or so he’d been pacing around his apartment (slowly so as not to crease the suit he’d been trying to keep meticulously pristine) trying to work up the nerve to call Dick and ask for a ride. He’d called everyone else he knew but hadn’t managed to find someone else who could manage to get him there with enough time to walk the at least three block buffer he would need. In the end, he swallowed down his pride and went to find the scribbled note in his room, trying to kid himself that he hadn’t memorized the number as soon as he’d seen it that first time.

He punched the numbers in once, swore and erased them; put them in a second time up to the sixth and then dropped the phone; dialed them a third time and hit call before he could overthink it but then chickened out when he heard the first ring. Calling himself a coward, chicken, and all other kinds of names, he dialed the number again and waited through three rings, the hand not holding the phone itching for a cigarette to give his fingers something to do besides hang uselessly at his sides. He stared at the books arranged on his shelves, finding some titles he hadn’t remembered he had because they’d been shoved under things or in piles until Alfred had cleaned earlier. He was turning his head to examine a shelf of brightly colored spines when the ringing stopped and he heard the end of a laugh and an amused “Hello, Dick Grayson speaking” from the phone.

The sound that came out of Jason’s mouth--he’d deny forever that it was a squeak but his vocal cords weren’t cooperating with him at that moment. He’d almost convinced himself that Dick’s voice wasn’t as perfect as he’d imagined, that hearing him again wouldn’t set the knot of nerves in his stomach to tightening and further drive home the point that this was a once-in-a-fucking-lifetime opportunity, but he was wrong.

Dick’s voice sounded a bit like melting butter flowing along a river of honey mixed with warm spice. (Jason’s brain helpfully supplied that there weren’t rivers of honey and, even if there were, why the fuck would someone pour melted butter on it? but he resolutely ignored that voice.) He sounded like he was smiling because he’d just been told something amusing by someone he was fond of, like maybe Jason was interrupting something.

That last thought brought him back to himself and he licked his lips, hoping to get this over with as soon as possible so he could hide in his shame after. “Uh, hi, Dick, it’s Jason?”

 _Yeah, real smooth, Todd, ask him if that’s who you are, don’t be confident at all. Going soft over some pretty rich boy now, are we? Jesus, pull yourself together, he’s just a pretty mouth with a hot body attached._ Jason winced, eyes closing as he squeezed his hand around the phone and shoved the other deep into his pocket, clearing his throat. “Jason. It’s Jason. I have a favor to ask and I really want you to know that I didn’t want to ask you but I--”

“Jason, do me a favor and walk to your window.” Dick’s voice was still amused but in a different way than before.

“I--what? What the fuck good is that gonna do me?”

“Just do it, please?” Dick’s sigh was evident and Jason imagined the man rolling his eyes.

He took a few steps over to the window that they’d looked through the night previously and pulled back the old curtain as he spoke. “Alright, I’m at the window, what the hell am I supposed to--son of a bitch, Goldie.”

In the street below him sat a glimmering black limousine, very much out of place, the back door open as the second member of Jason’s phone call leaned against the opening. Dick was holding the phone up to his ear with his left hand, right one tucked casually into the pocket of his black suit pants. His right leg was crossed over his left at the ankle and he wasn’t wearing a suit jacket. The perfect white of his shirt brought out the golden tone of his skin and offset the black of both the limo and his hair. The little shit was grinning right up at Jason’s window, perfect teeth and dimples disarming Jason faster than he would have expected.

“Surprise?” Jason heard over the phone as he watched Dick throw him an even wider smile followed by a saucy wave. “I came to pick you up. I hope you don’t mind. Because if you do, I’ve had at least two other offers from girls who would be, and I quote _“more than willing to take his place, baby, what with your assets.”_ It’s a bit weird for me to be propositioned this many times in two days, Jay, and I’ve been proposed to by perfect strangers.”

Jason just stared at him, trying to figure out exactly how mad he wanted to be that Dick had planned this the whole time and hadn’t told him. There was the small part of him that was relieved because now he wouldn’t have to walk three blocks in uncomfortable shoes, but it was growing smaller by the minute.

“You fucker, you planned to pick me up this whole time?” By the slight wince in Dick’s shoulders, Jason could tell his voice was a bit louder than he’d anticipated but it was warranted.

“To be fair, it wasn’t the whole time. I only decided about two hours ago and I wasn’t sure if calling you would be too forward. I, uh, might have had Alfred call me from your phone earlier so I had your number?” Somehow, even from this distance, Jason could tell that the smile took on a sheepish tinge as Dick stood up fully and faced the window, lowering his voice. “Don’t back out on me now, Jason. Please. I’ve been more excited in the past day than I have been for a date in a while.”

Even though he wanted to bolt at the words and the obvious sentiment, Jason stood his ground. Dick was excited to see him. A client was excited to see him. He could work with that. Most of them were, considering what usually happened on their “dates,” so this was normal territory. Pulling a small smirk from somewhere deep inside, he chuckled into the phone and watched as Dick’s posture shifted, straightened, stiffened with awareness.

“And ruin a chance to sully your good suit in the back of daddy’s limousine? Not a chance.” He grinned as Dick laughed, threw his head back in the middle of Jason’s street and let loose a heartfelt sound that Jason instantly wanted to hear more of. “I’ll be down in five, sound good?”

Dick nodded up at him and murmured into the phone, “Looking forward to the sullying, Jay.”

Jason hung up the phone and grabbed his bag from the couch. Inside he had everything Dick had sent over that morning (besides the food, because while Jason was proud he wasn’t _stupid_ ) and a change of clothes for when he left in the morning. He also had enough money to pay for a cab to the closest metro station, a train back to the station in the next borough over, and a cab from there back to his house. He had considered taking that trip to get there but he was low on funds. As it was the return trip and his sense of honor was putting him back a month’s rent, if not more. With one last check in the mirror, he grabbed his keys and headed downstairs, pulling his door closed.

Out on the sidewalk, a few of the neighbors had gathered to see who eventually came out to greet the giant black car. Four pairs of eyes watched Jason walk slowly down the path to the curb but only one felt like it was burning his skin as it swept over him. Dick’s eyes locked onto Jason’s the moment that he came out the door and then they never left him, traveling once quickly over his body and then again, slower this time, taking in every single detail. 

Jason had taken out any of his visible piercings but had left in or put in many of his more interesting non-visible ones. Tonight he had four piercings in and another three tucked into his bag in case Dick wanted to play later. He’d styled his hair so that it looked decidedly unstyled, messy and haphazard but appropriate for the occasion. To accompany the suit that Dick had given him, Jason had found an old red tie and managed to get a good looking knot to form around his neck. He’d put everything on over an hour ago and he felt as if the crisp lines were already fading from the fabric, but Dick’s open appreciation said otherwise. As Jason stepped closer to the older man, there was practically no blue around his irises and his mouth looked slightly unhinged.

With a growled “get in,” Dick stepped aside and Jason slid smoothly onto the plush leather seat of the nicest car he’d ever been in. As Jason shifted over, Dick gave one last quick look over the neighborhood and a small wave before he took his seat next to Jason and closed the door. No sooner had the car started to pull slowly away from the curb than Dick was in his lap, seemingly torn between touching and not touching.

“Oh my god, Jason you...you look so hot, I can’t even. I knew you would, of course, but really, I got your size perfect and this color looks so good on you and I kind of want to lick your face.”

Jason settled his hands onto lean hips above his own and chuckled softly, looking into bright eyes and an awestruck, smiling face. “Go ahead, Goldie. I’m yours for the night, remember?”

Dick’s smile could have powered a small electronics store as he leaned down closer to him, eyes sliding shut right before Jason put a hand on his chest to stop him. Dick’s eyes flew open, lips already quirking into a pout.

“Ja _son_ ,” Dick whined, shifting above him. “I want--”

“I don’t care what you want right now, Dick, because I just spent the last _hour and a half_ trying to figure out a discreet way to come and meet you tonight just to find out that you had _planned to pick me up_ in a goddamn _limo_ looking like you just stepped out of a fucking _catalogue_ and I’m--stop smiling, I’m _pissed_ at you.” It was Jason’s turn to pout as Dick’s smile got bigger instead of vanishing.

“You think I look good?” Dick’s blue eyes twinkled as he looked down into Jason’s slightly more green-blue ones.

With a sigh the seated man shook his head softly. “That’s all you got out of that? Really?”

“That’s really all that’s important to me because you’re here now,” Dick murmured with a slightly sheepish grin that somehow managed to ignite Jason’s blood in an entirely different way.

“I missed you,” Dick breathed against Jason’s lips before he pressed them together and Jason forgot exactly why he was so mad.

* * *

As the tires of the limo glided over the gravel of the back entrance to Wayne Manor, Dick and Jason sat giggling in the back while trying (unsuccessfully) to put each other back together. Dick’s hands kept wandering under Jason’s suit jacket to try and figure out if he was wearing the same rings on his chest that he had worn the night before. Jason kept fighting him off with a murmured “later, Dickie, Jesus,” and a soft placating kiss to his bitten lower lip. Jason’s long fingers swiftly redid the knot in Dick’s blue tie (it was easier for him to make a knot on someone else) as he managed to push the older man off him and back onto the seat. The heir’s hair was still in tact but Dick really _was_ handsy and Jason’s now looked more windswept than carefully tousled. 

When Dick reached out to try and help, Jason was immensely relieved to see the limo door open from the outside. Dick turned, leaning out halfway to talk with someone. Jason quickly licked his palm and slid it through the front portion of his locks while looking into the reflective window. It wasn’t great but it would have to do. It looked a bit more purposeful now than before, at least. As he watched long legs slide gracefully out of the car and onto the ground, he grabbed his bag and moved across the smooth leather to do the same.

As he stood outside, Jason was struck first with the lack of noise. By his estimation, they were only a half hour early (no way had the driver taken the most direct route here) and he’d expected the place to be noisy and full of life. Instead, the night hummed with anticipation and promise over the subdued noise of wildlife in the sprawling grounds of the estate. His second thought was that the house looked so much smaller in pictures. It rose above him almost three stories in height even though there were only two sets of windows in some places. The back steps rose in front of him and led to a welcoming light that poured from the open door leading to the mysterious inside of the grand place.

Dick was already halfway up the steps, deep in conversation with Alfred, when Jason stepped out and finished his first round of gawking. Quietly, so as not to interrupt and call attention to himself, Jason started after them, staring in open wonder at everything around him as they passed through the doors and into the main body of the house. The foyer was surprisingly...normal, Jason thought, nothing too gaudy or ostentatious but things that looked like they’d been used and loved and touched by someone. It was apparent that this hallway was used a lot as there was an air of comfort to the set of Dick’s shoulders as he walked ahead of Jason, still chatting with the butler and occasionally running his hand across an end table as they made their way to the door at the end of the hallway.

When Dick and the older man had reached the door, they both paused and turned around to await Jason, who sped up his steps to meet them.

“Nice digs, Goldie,” Jason remarked as he sidled up to them. “Gotta admit, I was expecting something a bit more fancy though, given your reputation.”

Dick’s smile was patient without being condescending and Jason made a mental note to ask how to do that when his brain got back online and wasn’t stuck in Dick-Grayson’s-smiling-at-me-in-his-house-help mode. 

“This is the back entrance, Jason, it’s not as fancy as the rest of the house. Mostly, this is the way I come in so I’ve personalized it a bit. Alfred’s been great in giving me some leeway with the decorating.”

The older man acknowledged the mention of his name with a slight bow of his head and a softly spoken word that only Dick appeared to hear and react to, standing up straight and reaching out to _take Jason’s hand_ as he led him through the door, murmuring “This way,” like it was the most natural thing in the world to be escorting an , _escort_ through the mannor. 

There was a deep part of him (the one not currently ogling everything they passed and thinking of how much it all must have cost and how much _food_ he could buy with that kind of money) that hoped that it wasn’t normal for Dick to be pulling some working guy (or girl) up carpeted stairs and down a seemingly endless hallway towards an open door. 

Dick stepped through and pulled Jason after him into what was arguably the messiest room that he’d seen here so far. Which wasn’t to say that it was messy at all--his apartment, even clean as it was now, would make this place look _pristine_ \--but it would be considered dirty by what Jason had started to think of as Alfred Standards. Even though he’d talked with the older man for a combined half hour at most, he felt like the butler could in no way approve of the pajama pants on the floor by the bed, the disorderly desk, the three different shirts and two ties laid out on the bed, and the unmade deep blue sheets underneath the turned back duvet. 

To Jason it looked wonderfully lived in, an actual room instead of a museum exhibit like the rest of the rooms in the house that he’d seen so far. It looked like Dick actually enjoyed being here, like maybe, when it was warm in the summer months, he’d sit on the oversized windowsill in a pair of cutoffs with a book and a pair of reading glasses, one foot dangling outside to swing against the heavy sunlight as he breezed through one of a number of classics. Like maybe when there was a thunderstorm but no rain, as they’re likely to have sometimes, that he could sit in the center of the room and watch the city skyline light up like a model in a fashion shoot in front of a flash bulb. The bed looked comfortable, soft enough to invite you in but not so soft as to make it difficult to get up on those early mornings when the man had to play a perfect society boy for the tabloids. There were papers scattered on the desk and Jason’s imagination transformed the flat sheets into little paper airplanes or crumpled balls that Dick lobbed at the trash can instead of simply tossing them in. The chair in the corner farthest from him had a blanket tossed over the arm, one of those handmade types that you could actually get at any department store for an outrageous price, but it looked soft and worn from use, like maybe there had been times when someone had curled up in it with a mug of cocoa and indulged in a quiet moment while the snow fell and the city worked and time passed and the world turned except for here in this room where it was soft and warm and home.

Because that’s what this was for Dick: home. Not a room, not just an apartment, but an actual bona fide home. Jason couldn’t remember the last time he had one of those, a place where he could exist but also thrive, enjoy himself without fear of anything, even if it was something subconscious and stupid like being abandoned by all the friends he didn’t have. He may have contacts and colleagues (and when was the last time you heard any type of hooker say that?) and people that he knew, but he wouldn’t really say that he had friends. But here in this space, that’s who Jason could imagine Dick being with--friends. 

People who weren’t him.

Even as he thought this, Dick smiled at him and was saying his name, asking him something that he couldn’t hear over the white noise in his ears. Then that smile turned half into a frown and Dick reached out for one of Jason’s shoulders, shaking him lightly, breaking through the noise and jostling him out of whatever funk he’d just fallen into.

“Jay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m good, sorry, just zoned out for a second.” He smiled in that way he knew got people to believe him, part sheepish and part sex appeal, and Dick immediately answered back with a genuine grin of his own. “Long night last night--couldn’t stop thinking about a certain blue-eyed heir.”

Jason’s hand met Dick’s in between their bodies as they both leaned forward to touch foreheads, smiling in tandem.

“Funny,” Dick murmured, “I couldn’t stop thinking about a rather interesting man with the most delicious piercings I’ve ever tasted.”

Jason laughed, a soft puff of breath against Dick’s lips as the older man stole a kiss, two. “And how many had you ever tasted before? Yeah, that’s right--none.” He pushed against broad shoulders gently and stood up straight, shifting his bag in his hand as a subtle reminder to Dick’s duty as host.

Trained gentleman that he was, Dick picked up on the cue and smoothly slid it out of Jason’s hand, moving gracefully to place it by the desk. “Just because it was the first doesn’t mean it can’t still be good. I don’t need a reference to say that they were delicious.” 

He moved back before his date, standing up straight and smiling before bowing and holding out his hand, ever the gentleman. With a smirk, Jason reached out and placed his hand on top of Dick’s, both suppressing a blush and a guffaw as Dick kissed the top before standing up straight and tucking it into his arm and starting to walk him out the door.

“I’m not saying you don’t have good taste, mind you,” Jason said as Dick shut the door behind them, moving _with_ him and not around him, more one person than two, and Dick really _was_ good at this stuff, no wonder half of Gotham wanted him. “I’m just saying you haven’t tasted everything I have to offer.”

If he wasn’t looking for it, Jason might have missed the slight stutter in Dick’s gait, but it was there. With a slight smirk, he leaned over to whisper against Dick’s ear as they turned a corner, almost tripping as Dick stopped and didn’t follow and Jason continued walking down the hall, smiling to himself at the dirty promise he’d just made.

“Jason, that’s not _fair!_ I won’t get to see if you’re telling the truth about that for _hours_ without disrobing you in public!” Dick called down the hall after him, but Jason didn’t even look back, just smiled wider to himself and headed in the direction of the cheesy music of the rich and fabulously fake.

* * *

The floor wasn’t as crowded as it normally could have been, quite a few of the guests having already moved outside onto the patio to take advantage of the seasonally warm autumn air and cool breeze to cool their dance-pinked cheeks, but even so Tim was finding it hard to navigate the sea of bodies with any sense of poise or grace. Part of this was due to the hand that refused to leave his wrist, another part was due to the heels he was wearing, but mostly it was due to the fact that he was so mad about the first one and _done_ with the second that he could barely think straight. He’d been trying to ditch his “date” for the evening for the past ten minutes but the man’s hand has been attached to him like a leech, rubbing these infuriating little circles against his pulse point. The poor sap probably thought “her” rising pulse was due to his charms and not Tim’s rising blood pressure and frustration. 

After again being deterred as he tried to turn towards Dick’s last known location, Tim turned swiftly towards his date (some up and coming model that may or may not be involved in human sex trafficking) and smiled sweetly, letting some frustration come bubbling out to tinge his cheeks pink even under the light dusting of blush he applied hours ago.

“Darling,” his nameless persona for the night said, and the man responded to the pet name with a small preen even though they only met a few hours ago when he walked into the party and almost tripped over the pretty girl in the red dress and white heels coming down the stairs. For him, it was love at first sight. For Tim, it was a carefully planned ploy in which he almost broke his neck because--surprise--trying to “accidentally” fall in heels can lead to _actually_ falling in heels. So while the original plan had been to pretend to fall into his arms, Tim had done almost exactly that. The man hadn’t left her side since and had touched almost every area of exposed skin Tim had, including a slight dip down the back of her dress that earned him an elbow to the ribs and a “Oh, sorry, sweetie, I got bumped” when it actually _hurt._ “I’m going to use the ladies’ room, freshen up a bit. Make myself pretty for you. Shouldn’t be more than fifteen minutes. Think you can survive without me for that long?”

The man didn’t try to assure her that she looked fine as she was and didn’t even have the gall to try and get her to stay--he just rolled his eyes and nodded, turning to one of his friends and already looking for the next girl for the night. As much as it pained him--and it almost physically pained him--Tim scooted closer to the man and pressed fully against his side, straddling his thigh as he whispered against his ear. “And I’ll scout out a place we can sneak off to later. I want your hands on me. Please.”

That got Tim the attention he wanted and, with a coy smile back at the unsuspecting slack-jawed mark, he melted into the crowd in search of his brother. Free from the extra weight, he found it much easier to slip between the bodies positioned all over the room, managing to be invisible even with his height in heels and the deep red of his dress. Pops of blue jumped out at him from the corners of his eyes and he kept moving around until he finally saw Dick on the fringes of the party, standing near the staircase Tim used as a prop earlier, laughing with the man standing next to him as if they’d just shared an intimate inside joke. Both their smiles were genuine and warm, and Tim immediately thought _mine_ before he tramped down the age-old jealousy and allowed a real smile onto his own made-up lips as he approached the pair.

Dick looked up and smiled, reaching for the man’s arm and pulling him closer so he didn’t get run into by a drunk man weaving down the stairs. Even after the man cleared the bottom step, before Tim reached them, Dick kept his hand at the small of the man’s back. Tim raised an eyebrow and Dick raised one right back, to which Tim lowered his slowly and tossed his long hair back with a shake of his head. Nonverbal conversation completed and won, Tim approached and slipped into Caroline’s voice as Dick greeted him, so much easier than the high pitched whine he’d affected tonight.

“Dick, how lovely to see you,” he murmured, holding out a hand for his brother to obediently kiss. It was his reward for having caught Dick in a rare moment of affection for one of his dates that wasn’t Roy or Kory and Dick played along without even blinking, brushing a gentle kiss against Tim’s knuckles right where he knew it was ticklish and then pulling him in for a hug so Tim could whisper a name against Dick’s ear. As they embraced, Dick said how great it was to see _Desiree_ again, it’d been too long.

As they pulled back, Tim could see the other man look between the two of them, eyes calculating even though the easy smile was still on his face. As soon as the brothers pulled apart, the stranger was back at Dick’s side, right in his personal space, and his hidden jealousy would have been cute if Tim hadn’t been feeling the same thing.

“And who’s your handsome companion, Dick? I must say I’ve never seen _him_ around before.” As nice as Tim tried to be, there was always something about acting like a girl that made him passive aggressive. 

So the emphasis on “him”? 

Intentional. 

But the “handsome”? 

Totally warranted.

He looked amazing in his suit, a bit like a real life James Bond complete with the knee-melting, panty-dropping smile (Tim would know, he was actually wearing some) that was being turned on him at this moment. It was so different from the smile before, so much _more_ somehow, full of promise and filth and desire, and Tim was more than a bit affected by it.

He was even more struck when the man reached for the hand that Dick had taken and moved it up to his own mouth, pressing a gentle kiss against the back as he bowed, looking up at Tim with some of the most colorful eyes he’d ever seen. In a perfect French accent that threatened to make Tim’s toes curl in his heels, the man smiled and intoned, “Je m’apelle Jason. Au château, mademoiselle.”

There are moments in life where time seems to stop and one can see the entirety of a situation with startling clarity. This was one such moment for Tim. He could see the way Dick's smile changed from something just happy to something amused beyond belief. Jason's eyes burned into Tim's as he stood there looking both smug and amused, still holding her hand. Tim, for his part, was trying so hard to hold back the laugh threatening to bubble up out of his chest that he was sure he looked like he was in pain. 

"Lovely to meet you, Jason," he managed to get out, only sounding mildly like he was choking on his own tongue to keep from laughing. He was _very_ tempted to reply in flawless French just to see how the man would react, but he kept it to himself in favor of appreciating the warmth that spread through his hand from the kiss and the way the man still _hadn’t let go of it._ In the two seconds of extended contact between them, Tim could see himself melting under those hands into a puddle on the floor, the bed, the counter...anywhere.

He--she cleared her throat none too delicately and stepped back, reclaiming her hand and tucking it into the other in front of her stomach. While Dick made the proper introductions, Tim’s mind wandered, running away of its own accord and dragging Jason with it to the bedroom upstairs. Tim’s mind drew up for him a vivid picture of exactly what they would look like if Jason pushed him up against the door after slamming it closed, hiking Tim’s dress up to his thighs and pulling him close, pressing them together fully from knee to chest. 

With the heels on Tim would be about as tall as the older man, giving them equal leverage with which to surge into the dirty kiss Jason had initiated out in the hall. Those large hands would be able to wrap around a good portion of his hips, warm through the thin fabric of his dress as they tasted each other and blood as they fought for dominance, because Tim would be willing to submit to the man but not without a fight. He had a feeling Jason would love that, love to work for it, love to _make_ Tim submit, practically bend him over backwards as he bit and licked and _demanded_ entrance into his mouth and access to his body. 

One warm hand on his lower back, the other in his hair, they’d step back towards the bed, Tim tripping over his heels as he was dragged and pushed into the softness of his mattress, both of them sighing as Tim’s back hit the comforter. Then it’d be warm hands all over each other’s bodies, clothes pushed and pulled and almost ripped from skin too hot to be contained anymore as Jason’s tongue started working on his body, finding just the right place to touch, working him out of the tight fabric and the elaborate underthings that kept everything tucked into place so he could play his part tonight. A wet trail of kisses down from his mouth towards his hips, wet kisses there and on his hipbones as Tim sucked in a ragged breath and--

Sucked in a ragged breath _in front of Dick and Jason._

Who were both staring at him.

“Are you alright?” Jason asked, head cocked to one side with amusement in his eyes.

“Are you alright, _Desiree_?” Dick asked, emphasizing the alias as he looked pointedly at Tim from Jason’s side, snapping Tim back into the moment.

He cleared his throat and blinked quickly out of the stupor he’d fallen into. “Yes, I’m fine,” Tim heard himself answer, and even to his own ears he sounded more like himself than any of his female aliases. He tried again. “Sorry, just trying to remember what it was I was supposed to pick up for my date at the bar.”

“Male or female?” Jason queried.

“Pardon?” Tim said, voice much more normal and his heart only skipping half a beat as Jason shifted his stance to face him better.

“Your date. Male or female? I’m not judging, I myself like both, but I’m just a bit confused as to why a guy as good looking as yourself would be sporting this get up and who you’d be picking up in it.” As Tim gaped at him a bit, Jason continued like they were having the most normal conversation and not discussing Tim’s crossdressing. “I like the breeze down there every once in a while, and there’s something freeing about a skirt, but normally free balling is enough to satisfy me. Never had the urge to get as fancy as you are, sweetcheeks. All I’m wondering is why and why Dickie here’s going along with--”

Tim’s slap was a bit of a surprise even to himself but, he rationalized, necessary to maintain his cover and most definitely _not_ to shut him up. Jason barely reacted, turning back to him with a knowing smirk and then turning to look at Dick while still somehow managing to keep Tim in his peripheral. It didn’t help that Dick’s face showed the utmost amusement and he was about to double over laughing as Tim sputtered something incoherent about being “entirely female” and stomped away, trying to stay upright in the heels as he turned and (most definitely did not run) walked away to find his mark for the night. If Jason’s spine-melting laugh and the feeling of eyes on his ass haunted him for the rest of the night, well, no one would know but him.

* * *

Later on, after most of the alcohol had been drunk (a feat, to be sure, as Bruce Wayne never spared any expense) and both tongues and purses were looser, the main charity event started. The main lights dimmed and Dick steered Jason over towards a makeshift stage by the dancefloor. The emcee of the night thanked everyone for coming and thanked them in advance for their generosity. He then listed off the many different charities that would benefit from tonight’s event and then introduced the first Date (because no matter how the man said it, Date came out with a capital D).

“Date?” Jason whispered to Dick, confused as everyone around him (the women especially) fell into a sort of hushed silence as the man walked away and the curtains at the back of the stage parted and a spotlight was turned onto the triangle of black space.

“It’s a charity thing they do every year. A few guys volunteer to go on a date with the highest bidder. It’s kinda fun, I guess. It’s a lot more profitable than the typical donation drive, anyway. Bruce only really does it because some of the ladies made a big stink the one year he tried to skip it.”

“Sounds a bit like prostitution to me, Dickie, but hey, anything for the kiddies right? Hey wait, isn’t that…?”

A short man walked out from between the red curtains, smile firmly in place as he strolled towards the crowd, waving as someone (a female, judging by the pitch) yelled his name loudly.

“Timothy Drake. Well, fuck me, Dickie, who knew your brother made such a hot chick.”

Dick almost choked on his next breath and looked incredulously at his date, blinking as Jason thumped him on the back and muttered “well really, now that I’ve seen _her_ it’s not that difficult to tell. A bit shorter, but I guess that’s because of those killer heels.”

“How did you…” Dick whispered as the bidding began with a shout of an outrageously high, five figure price.

“Oh sweetie,” Jason said, voice sugar-sweet and smile one of fond exasperation. “I’m a _working girl_ , we’re able to spot a cross dresser at 50 paces. It’s part of the training--we can’t leave the academy until we’ve mastered it.” At Dick’s slack-jawed expression, Jason cracked up and slid a hand down against his lower back and watched the bidding progress with interest. “Relax, Goldie, Jesus, you’re gonna get a hernia from that expression.”

“I don’t think that’s the right word, Jay,” Dick murmured, distracted as he looked up at his brother and saw the silent plea in his eyes as the women raised the price into six digits.

“Whatever,” Jason shrugged. “It’s a talent that I have, though. It’s not hard to tell. He’s got the same build and the same delicious-looking creamy skin. Wait, did that woman say what I think she did? Was that a _”hundred thousand”_ I heard in there?”

At Dick’s nod Jason gave a low whistle. “You think if I got up there I could make enough to cover the next year’s worth of rent? They’ve already passed it for Tiny Tim up there. I am _definitely_ on the wrong street corner.”

Dick saw the slight twitch of Tim’s eye as the number climbed close to the number his bidding had maxed out on last year with only two women left, both of them old enough to be Tim’s mother. Neither seemed willing to drop the fight and Dick’s heart clenched for his younger brother.

“He gonna be okay? Kid looks like he wants to punch something. I mean, maybe I’m wrong, but having people fighting over you normally doesn’t illicit that reaction.”

“He doesn’t really like these kinds of things. Last year one lady bid on him thinking she could use it as leverage to get Tim to marry her daughter. That didn’t end well.”

“Mm,” Jason hummed, shifting his stance and standing up on his toes to watch as both women consulted their checkbooks and murmured to their friends and husbands. “How pissed would you be if I bid on him and asked you to cover the bill? I mean, you don’t have to, but I kinda feel bad for him. I know what it’s like to not want something but be forced--”

“Done,” Dick said decisively. “I can’t bid on him and he hates it when he has to go out. Try and be reasonable, Jay, but make sure you win.”

With that Jason shot his hand up into the air and shouted out a price twenty thousand above the current bid. He’d read the lips of one woman and knew she’d be out but the other was still a toss up. He looked over at her challengingly and she stared back at him, caught off guard at the new contender. Before she could respond, he spoke up again, cockily bidding ten thousand higher than his last bid and smirking at her then looking up at Tim, unconsciously licking his lips as the younger boy shivered infinitesimally.When he turned to look back at the other woman, her face registered just as much shock as he’d expected from the move but no further bid on her part. The auctioneer, rather surprised, called out for any more bids and, at the silence that greeted him, called out the final price and informed “the very generous, good-looking gentleman in the middle” that if he would make his way to the back someone back there would assist him.

Dick’s grin was huge as Tim walked off, the nervousness gone from the set of his shoulders. He threaded his arm through Jason’s and guided him to the back through the crowd, fishing out a checkbook from his coat pocket and writing out a number quickly before ripping it off and handing it to Jason.

“Here. There’s even a bit more so they’re gonna love you, especially since you’re walking up with me.” Jason fingered the check and marveled at the idea of holding that much money in his hands if even for a moment.

As they approached the table at the back, people started bidding on the next Date and those interested moved away from the area to watch the next dramatic bidding war happen. Jason took his arm from Dick’s and plastered on a smile he hoped spoke of wealth which didn’t care if he dropped almost half a million on a faux date with some society boy. The people at the table seemed to believe it as they smiled back at him, asking if he was the one who had won the first date. At his nod, someone politely asked if he would be making his donation by check or with a credit card (which blew Jason’s mind a bit more because what card had that big of a limit on it?) and he simply held out the check without saying a word. The woman in front of him snatched it quickly, almost as if she thought he would change his mind if he held onto it too long. When she saw the amount was higher than he had bid, she thanked Mr. Peters for his generosity and asked him to step aside as Mr. Drake would be out shortly to meet him.

With that, Dick steered Jason to the side and waited in front of the small door that lead from backstage. Mind still reeling a bit, Jason stood in silence as people walked past and a bit of a queue formed as others lined up to pay for their Dates. The door behind them opened a few times as the Dates made their way out to greet those who had bid on them. When the door opened the fourth or fifth time, Tim walked through and almost every head in the area turned to follow his progress toward the scowling man standing in the corner. Dick was grinning like the cat that caught the canary as he waved Tim over.

“Dick, how good to see you. I don’t believe that I’ve met your very generous friend.” Ever the polite, perfect society boy, Tim held out his hand to Jason. “Timothy Drake, pleasure to meet you. Thank you so much for your donation to the charity.”

Without thinking too much about it, Jason grabbed Tim’s hand and pulled him close, trapping their clasped hands between their chests and wrapping the other one around his waist. A breath away from his face, blue eyes filling his vision, Jason whispered quietly, “Pleasure’s my business, Timmy,” and dipped him as he pressed their mouths together, taking advantage of his surprise to deepen the kiss a bit as Tim wrapped his arms around Jason’s neck to keep from falling. From any other perspective, Jason knew, it would look like Tim was into the kiss, and it wasn’t entirely untrue--his body went from being stiff to molding to his own but he still didn’t respond until Jason was pulling him out of the dip and Tim’s quick little tongue darted out to taste Jason briefly before pulling back as they both stood, out of breath. 

“I um...thank you again?” Tim questioned, looking more at Dick than at Jason. Dick was staring blatantly at Jason, not even trying to hide either his shock or his arousal, but he nodded as Tim quirked an eyebrow.

With a grin, Jason made a big show of wiping his thumb across his lips as he looked at Tim’s mouth. “My pleasure, Mr. Drake. And I mean that.”

“I...right. Well, thank you for the save. And the um. Er. I’ll see you later then, Jason.” Tim said quietly as he made to turn but didn’t get a half step in the direction of safety before Jason caught his wrist and pulled him back to face him and Dick.

“I never told you my name, Tim.” Jason’s grin was wolfish as Tim’s eyes widened before shuttering quickly.

“Dick…”

“Hasn’t said anything since you walked out here. It’s okay, your secret’s safe with me. Besides, I’d hate to lose my prize before I really got to enjoy it. Have a nice night, Tim.” With that he raised Tim’s hand to his lips and repeated the gesture he had done before when he was a she, brushing his lips against the skin lightly before pulling back, dropping his hand, and turning to walk away with Dick from the dumbstruck crowd.

“Jason,” Dick intoned, voice entirely flat as he walked with Jason back towards the throng of people at the stage.

“Yes, dear?” he replied, smile set firmly on his lips.

“That was…”

“Hot? Delicious? Unexpected? Wonderful, please do that with me right now? Pick any of the above or feel free to write in your own response, this edition of Mad Libs is pretty free form.”

Dick’s laugh was unexpected but beautiful as it transformed the man’s entire face. He grinned up at Jason and he felt his stomach clench with _want_ even more than it had at Tim’s reciprocation. “All of the above,” Dick whispered, squeezing Jason’s hand gently. “Tim will hate me for not stopping it, but yes, it was fantastic.”

Dick paused as a loud round of applause sounded throughout the room and Jason stood on his toes to see who was being announced as the last bachelor.

“Damn, I can’t see, do you know who’s last?”

Dick handed over the checkbook and smiled almost pityingly at Jason. “Remember how I told you to keep it reasonable earlier?”

Jason nodded, not quite understanding Dick over the loud muttering around them.

“Same rules apply. And really, Jay, make sure you win this one. I’d hate for you to go home empty handed.”

At that, Dick grinned and turned towards the stage as his name was called loudly over the voices of all the others in the room and he vaulted up on stage to grin and wave at everyone in the room, boyish charm in full swing as he rocked back onto his heels and sheepishly ducked his head as the applause swelled. When he looked up, his eyes unerringly met Jason’s and he quickly mouthed _win me, Jay_ and the bidding started at a price higher than Tim’s ending price.

In a daze, Jason watched the people vying for a chance at Dick, again mostly older women, but one younger woman at most ten years older than Dick. In the end it was only her left before Jason swooped in again, bidding right as the auctioneer was about to award her the win. She turned towards Jason’s voice and raised her bid in a sweet lilt that carried across the room without a microphone. They bid back and forth a few times, Jason keeping his eyes focused entirely on her, figuring that if Dick was stupid enough to trust him with Mr. Peters’s checkbook that the least he could do was provide a good show and make sure he won. When the woman bid twenty-five thousand above Jason’s last bid and he paused, she thought for sure she had won and looked back to Dick with a triumphant smirk on her face. Quietly, Jason spoke up, voicing a bid a good thirty thousand above hers to a thunderous round of applause and her defeated turn of betrayal. With a grin, Jason turned back to lock eyes with Dick as the auctioneer counted down the last three seconds and then repeated the winning bid and congratulated Jason on his win.

Dick jumped off the stage as the crowd parted between them and walked up to Jason, managing to look almost bashful as he approached the man who’d won him. With a grin that probably matched Dick’s in stupidity and width, Jason held out a hand and lifted Dick’s to his mouth in a kiss once it was placed in his palm.

“You gonna kiss me, too, or do you only kiss the pretty girls?” Dick joked as the crowd around them clapped and began to turn back to their own business as the lights began to turn back on.

“I told you before, Dick, I like both. And tonight, I plan to take full advantage of the body that I’ve purchased.”

Jason stepped right into the man’s space and cupped his cheek with the hand not still holding Dick’s, messing up that perfect hair as he pulled him close into a slow kiss that deepened as the throng around them began to move again, shifting and flowing around them as they drifted into the space where the only thing that existed was the other person.

Distantly Dick managed to think that Bruce might be mildly pissed at him, and at the press of the checkbook against his chest and Jason’s whispered comment that maybe they should go somewhere where he could “unwrap and inspect my purchase,” he pulled back only enough to drag Jason to the table to hand over a check before he was dragging the man upstairs, laughing.

“C’mon, Jay, I have a perfect place.”

“Might wanna wipe that grin off your face before your cheeks break, Dickie,” Jason said, a grin just as big on his face as they climbed the stairs.

“Can’t help it. The most generous man at the party just bid on me and won. I’m _very_ happy.”

“Nah, I’m broke as _fuck_ , but I know I’m the only one you wanna go home with tonight, baby.”

At Dick’s affirming laugh and nod, Jason claimed another taste of his mouth and allowed himself to be dragged down the hallway to what promised to be a _very good night_ indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, this is samuraiflo and I just wanted to quickly apologize for taking so long to write this chapter. There's this thing called real life and, apparently, I have to have one. It got in the way a (lot of) bit and that's why this took so long. Hopefully you enjoyed it, though! Look forward to thoughtless_dreamer's next chapter--it's gonna be good ;)


	4. Working For Pleasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the party goes on in one of the many social halls of Wayne Manor, Dick and Jason slip away into the heart of the mansion, where they have every intention of stealing the rest of the night to themselves and finally indulging in one another. As much as humanly possible. And they absolutely mean all night long. And somewhere in the midst of it all, grandiose plans start to take shape in the not-so-backs of their minds.

With every step taken from the smothering, crowding sounds of too loud laughter and chatter, and the heady, overpowering mix of colognes and a glass of Zinfandel too far, the heat that came from too many bodies crowded together melted away into another, sweeter sort of heat altogether. Jason would have teased Dick mercilessly for the very ungentlemanly way he was tugging him along in his haste to lead him away from the party, as he was practically stumbling over himself to keep up--but he would have been lying if he wasn’t just as eager to get as far from the pressures of the crowds as fast as fucking possible and onto more _pleasurable _activities.__

They turned corner after corner, winding their way through doorways and down long corridors until Jason was damned sure that, without Dick’s help (or Alfred’s, or if the world really wanted a laugh at him, or Mr. Brucie Wayne himself -- because from the brief impressions he’d gotten and the stunts he’d pulled, he wasn’t too convinced that Tim would _actually_ help, if only for his own amusement) he was never getting out again, with this impossibly mazelike monstrosity of a house.

“Jesus, Dickie, are you actually _bringing_ us somewhere, or are you just trying to destroy any semblance of bearings I possibly have? Because mission fucking accomplished, I couldn’t find my way out of here with a fuckin’ map and compass-- _and I know_ we passed that portrait, _I know we have_ \--” Any further accusations Jason may have had were promptly cut off, as Dick abruptly turned to pin Jason to the wall to kiss him senseless.

The tirade Jason had had going died a sudden death as it was smothered down somewhere deep in his throat as Dick met it there, pushing it back down with his lips, tongue, and teeth. Jason let out a muffled groan, and raised his hands to tug half-heartedly at Dick’s cuffs. A very distant, tiny portion of his brain screamed about wrinkles as the heir curled his long fingers into the lapels of Jason’s suit jacket, as if in doing so, he could kiss himself deeper into Jason’s mouth through sheer willpower. If anything, the sound only drove Dick more desperate, as he let out a keening sound of his own as he pulled back with one last lick of Jason’s mouth.

The creeping tendrils of heat that Jason had felt curling through his veins earlier blazed into a roar as Dick broke the kiss panting, his eyes blown dark with only the faintest rim of blue around the edges, and his spit shiny lips glistening as they curved into a wanton smile in the dim, warm lights of the hallway.

“God, Jason, you’ve no idea how badly I’ve wanted to do that all evening,” Dick murmured in a voice that had Jason wanting to fall to his knees right then and there to rip the pants off his prize for the night.

A thrill ran through him at the thought--he veritably could do whatever he wanted with this man--with arguably one of if not the most eligible men of their generation. Tonight, he’d bid and won and handed over _hundreds of thousands_ of dollars that Dick Grayson had entrusted to him to _win his company_ for the night.

It blew Jason’s mind. That out of anyone, in and out of Gotham, somehow, despite some seriously outlandish odds, he, a run of the mill escort - but for tonight, the generous philanthropist, _Mr. Peters_ , he remembered in a distantly hysterical kind of way - had begun the evening Dick Grayson’s date, and had ended with him as his hard-won prize.

The world worked decidedly ironic wonders in some seriously fucked up ways. Not that Jason was complaining.

He was much too involved in pulling Dick in for another serious make out session to offer much more thought to the mysterious ways of the world and its admittedly fucked up sense of irony, but the heir pulled away much too soon in Jason’s opinion, and laughingly pushed at Jason’s chest as the escort glared and tried to reel him back in.

“Nngh, Jason _wait_ , not _here_ ,” Dick half chided, half choked out as Jason spun them around to reverse their positions and pulled a move that was _decidedly_ below the belt - and he meant that as literally as possible - and had to swallow thickly and lick his lips twice before he managed to successfully get the words out, hips quivering as he struggled not to encourage Jason by arching into his touch, trying to stay pressed up against the wall.

“We’re--we’re almost...there, just -- _Jay_ ,” he whined, dropping his head to rest his forehead on Jason’s shoulder as his hips jerked forward of their own accord as Jason continued to press his hips into his, gyrating slowly in a way that was visibly turning the other man’s legs to jelly.

Jason smirked against Dick’s hair before tilting his head to press a hot, filthy open-mouthed kiss to the small expanse of skin exposed at Dick’s neck, eliciting from him a startled gasp and almost mewl that immediately had his mind racing to the other sorts of sounds Dick would be making for him--

When Dick made his namesake proud as he used Jason’s momentary lapse (or, rather, cranial shutdown) to slip out from his clutches in a truly impressive, acrobatic maneuver that had Jason caught between chagrin and delight at the hint of unnatural flexibility. Dick smiled at the impatient look creeping back onto Jason’s face as he rocked impatiently on his heels, before wrapping his fingers around Jason’s wrists and pointedly leading him across to the other side of the hallway, pointedly letting go of him in favor of staring Jason in the eye as he opened the door, gesturing grandiosely for Jason to enter.

Jason rolled his eyes and snorted, unimpressed, and stalked into the room, muttering “yeah, because you _couldn’t possibly_ have just said _‘Look Jason, we’re here’_ or- _God forbid_ -wait another three seconds before pouncing on me.” He turned and caught Dick’s eye, scowing at the amused eyebrow the older man had arched, and trailed off with a faltering, final statement that sounded suspiciously like a childish _‘you started it’_ before he swallowed hard at the hungry look in Dick’s eye as the door closed with an oddly loud _click_ behind them.

The stillness lasted all of another heartbeat before the two were completely wrapped up with each other again, Jason striding forward as Dick surged at him and meeting each other halfway, where they promptly fell to the ground in a heap of heated touches and an impatient flurry to rid themselves of their clothes.

“Jesus, Dick, hold _still_ \--s’gonna _rip _if you keep wriggling around like that,” Jason snapped shakily as he did his best to undo what he was fairly sure were fine, mother of pearl buttons down Dick’s previously crisp dark shirt, as Dick had already shucked his jacket off with an impressive speed in one fluid motion that seemed oddly practiced, and had Jason sinking his mouth down on Dick’s neck in an irrational surge of jealousy. Dick gasped and let his head fall to the side to give him better access, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he struggled to catch Jason’s gaze.__

“C-couldn’t care less,” he panted weakly, looking at Jason with a startling amount of honesty. “S’ a gift, from some...stupid...event--God, Jay, wanna feel you _now,_ don’t _care_ if you rip it right off me.., “

Jason swore, both at the words and the way Dick was looking at him with the most gorgeous, blown eyes he’d ever fucking seen, and the way he caught his lower lip between his teeth, and gave up on patience, fumbling to jerk the buttons open, and smiling viciously at the way one or two popped off in his haste. 

It was extremely satisfying to finally push the sides apart and shove the sleeves back up Dick’s arms, exposing the gorgeous golden, unblemished skin below him -- and he decided that Dick could deal with tugging his shirt off the rest of the way, because he had Very Important Things to do to the toned chest beneath him, starting with a long, hot strip licked from the dip of his clavicle down to his navel, making Dick’s head fall back onto his shoulders with a groan and canting his hips in the most deliciously provocative way.

Dick seemed to snap back to his senses at the sound of the buttons rolling away, and a grin that was more sunshine and less sex appeal slipped onto his lips as he gazed at Jason through lowered lashes. “That wasn’t nearly as hot as I thought it was going to be,” he admitted honestly. His off the cuff comment was enough to make Jason draw back to stare up at him with a deadpan look that screamed _really?_ audibly enough that he may as well have said it out loud. 

“Your vote of confidence is appreciated, you _ass,_ ” Jason retorted, candy sweet, rolling his eyes but returning eagerly to the task at hand, his lips quirking in earnest as he felt the muscles grow taught and flutter beneath his teasing mouth at his ministrations.

Or, that’s what he thought, until he heard a distinct snort.

And then a chuckle.

Jason’s eye twitched as he slowly raised his head once more to stare at Dick flatly as giggles began to bubble out of his date’s throat “I’m sorry,” Dick laughed, “it’s just something that sounds like it’s straight out of a romance novel--I feel like the swooning damsel who gets her bodice ripped right off and begs her lover to take her-”

“Dick, shut the fuck up,” Jason returned helpfully, but he couldn’t fully keep an incredulous sort of smirk from twitching at the corners of his mouth, because he was beginning to realize that yes, this was _really_ his life, and this was _really_ what sex with Dick Grayson was like, or could be like--full of smiles and laughter and _honesty_ and a bunch of other things that Jason had actually long forgotten could be a part of sex since he’d started primarily earning his keep walking corners.

“Oh, but Jay, I’d have thought you’d _want_ to hear me begging for you,” Dick lilted with a sultry smile, and with the slightest tilt of his head it suddenly felt like the room’s temperature had flared a good few degrees. The sheer look on Dick’s face had Jason shaking his head slightly, chuckling lowly and licking his lips as he fixed Dick with a predatory stare that made the heir’s tongue dart out to wet his own. 

Jason didn’t quite _shove_ Dick to the ground, but it was a damn close thing.

“ _You. Fucking. Tease,_ ” Jason half breathed, half growled, punctuating each word with a sharp twist of his fingers into Dick’s silken strands, drawing hitched breathes from the other man’s throat--and they weren’t of pain, Jason noted with some dark interest, taking care to file that information safely away for another day--before losing himself in the task of covering every last inch of Dick’s skn with nips and kisses.

Dick shuddered and twisted, letting out one moan after another at the attention, his eyes fluttering helplessly as he struggled to keep his gaze trained on Jason as he methodically kissed his way from just below Dick’s ear, down to his clavicle, before pausing to lave sinfully at his collarbone. 

“Who’s teasing now?” Dick managed weakly between pants that grew harsher and shorter with each flick of Jason’s talented tongue against his skin, and it was all he could do not to whine loudly when Jason’s mouth took an abrupt turn back north from its sudden detour down to pepper what were sure to become hickies tomorrow just beneath his navel.

The sound escaped Dick despite himself, however, when the escort’s mouth covered one nipple, and his head lolled back as he moaned brokenly as Jason’s teeth caught teasingly over the hardened nub, his tongue and lips abusing the sensitive flesh mercilessly until Dick was keening incoherently, fingers curling desperately into his tousled black and white-streaked hair for purchase.

“Jason, Jay--I--nngh--need, you, need _more, Jay_ ,” Dick whimpered, and his voice was so thin and needy that Jason finally looked up from where he’d begun to give the same treatment to Dick’s other side, but all thoughts of returning to Dick’s already well-loved chest vanished at the glassy look in Dick’s hazy eyes, and he knew he had to taste the red, bite swollen lips that were pouted so delectably up at him.

With that, he turned his attention onto stealing away every precious, stuttered breath the acrobat took, the kiss growing more desperate and deep with every fervent keen that slipped from Dick’s hot mouth, egging Jason on. 

“I was right,” Jason rasped out in a gravelly voice as he pulled back, but not before running his tongue along the backs of Dick’s perfect, straight teeth one last time (and that briefly prompted the random, distant thought of a young Dick, with braces, before reality kicked in and slapped that tiny coherent part of him upside the head before reminded him that this was Dick Grayson who was born Perfect and wouldn’t have needed that sort of thing) and he pulled back to admire his handiwork -- dark marks blooming all over the man’s golden skin, which practically glowed in the warm light they were bathed in. 

A very primal (and right now, very prominent) part of Jason was gloating over the fact that no matter how high a collar Dick could get away with tomorrow, there was no way the hickies along his jawline weren’t going to raise eyebrows.

“Right ‘bout what,” Dick slurred breathlessly, raising a shaking hand to push back his tousled tresses, trying to push them back into line, but only succeeding in giving himself even worse sex hair -- but not yet nearly as sexed as Jason was intending on making it. Dick’s query brought Jason back to himself, and to the fact that he had even spoken at all, as he’d been quite preoccupied with the ways that he could leave his mark on Dick as blatantly as possible, to the point Dick wouldn’t even be able to sit comfortably at his WE desk office chair for days. 

He somehow managed to rip his eyes away from the particularly dark bite he’d left on Dick’s clavicle, and met Dick’s eyes, smirking darkly.

“What I said yesterday. ‘Bout that silver tongue of yours--s’ good for _much_ more than sweet talkin’, pretty boy,” Jason purred. “Here I was, thinking it’d be good for other uses, but _damn_ if I’m not suffocating myself in my pants just listening to you _sing._ ”

Dick let out a breathy laugh at that, and he cocked his head sweetly as he let his gaze trail down Jason’s rumpled shirt, raising a hand to grasp at Jason’s tie to pull him in so that he was practically speaking against Jason’s mouth, little puffs of air ghosting over the consort’s lips and making him wet them unconsciously as his eyes dilated as Dick’s face grew close to his, fast. “Well then,” he murmured, working his fingers in a very suggestive manner to slowly loosen the knot of the tie until it was slipping off from a somewhat dumbstruck Jason’s neck. “I’d be a _terrible_ host if I didn’t make you more comfortable. So...” Dick hummed as he trailed his fingers down to slowly work the topmost button of Jason’s shirt out of its hole.

“Why don’t we just fix that little problem,” he lilted, slowly working the button back in and out of its hole -- and in. And out again -- “And I’m _sure_ we could get more creative. Maybe even do a _duet._ ”

Jason groaned, half in pure arousal, the other half incredulous as he swatted Dick’s hands away to impatiently tug at the buttons of his shirt, shrugging out of it and his jacket at the same time. “ _Fuck you,_ Dick-- the _last_ thing I need is to start popping inopportune boners whenever I hear terrible puns by association,” he snorted, shaking his head but smirking when Dick let out a clear, tremulous laugh in response.

Which promptly broke off into an interesting sound caught somewhere between choking and whining.

“Oh fucking hell,” was the first thing that came out of Dick’s mouth when he’d regained control of the capability of speech at last, and Jason was pretty sure he was well on his way to developing a Pavlovian response for curses falling from Dick’s upper class mouth, because it was all he could do to keep from throwing the other man down and grinding his way to the big finish right then and there. 

However, the nearly worshipful look on Dick’s face gave him the resolve he needed to stay still and revel beneath Dick’s attention, and he preened over the knee jerk reaction of a comment he’d ripped out of the heir.

“Like what you see, Goldie? Dug these out just for you,” Jason taunted, raising his hands to drag his fingertips lightly up over his chest to rest just beneath the piercings he’d slipped on for the occasion, a matching pair of nipple shields fashioned to look like an intricate web, with delicate designs woven into the fine metal-- and Jason was fairly certain Dick’s thought process stuttered to a stop when he pinched the metal between his thumbs and forefingers and gave a loud, obnoxious, completely for show and ultimately bad-porno status groan as he gave a sharp tweak. 

Dick sort of fell over a little for a moment before he regained motor control, and the next thing he knew, Jason had an armful of writhing, grinding socialite on top of him and, somehow just as interestingly, no pants.

“ _Fuck,_ Dick,” Jason moaned throatily, fingers curling around Dick’s biceps tightly as the other man gyrated their hips together desperately -- and hey, a helpful part of Jason's still-cognitive brain pointed out happily, he’d magicked his own pants off, too, he must have paid to be magic or have gone to Hogwarts or something and alright, so maybe that part of his brain wasn’t actually functioning quite as well as he’d thought -- “who’d’ve guessed you had such a fucking kink?” 

“Didn’t. Can’t. Jay. Nghh,” Dick replied helpfully between hitching gaps, rolling their hips together until Jason snapped at the feeling of precome seeping through Dick’s boxers and rubbing into the wet patch growing on his own and he rolled them over with a growl, grabbing Dick’s ridiculously bendable legs and throwing one haphazardly over his hip before leaning in and crushing their mouths together as they rocked unevenly, hands grappling at each other’s boxers to try and get them off as quickly as possible, their need rocketing as more and more heated flesh was touched and exposed. 

As well as more jewelry.

“Fuck...Jay...Are those--real?”

“For fuck’s sake, Dick, is your dad rich? _Yes,_ Mister Goody Two Shoes, _they’re fucking real._ Just because hip piercings are rarer doesn’t mean they don’t exist, _Jesus._ ”

“I...I didn’t...know you could pierce...your...hips...wait...is _that_ …?”

“What’re you lookin’ at _now--oh._ Hah, yeah, now that one I may have picked up as a laugh after one run in too many with the delightful blue shirts who patrol one of the main streets.”

“ _Where do you even find a belly button piercing with the logo for the GCPD._ ”

“Let me tell you about a little place called Spencers. Or. You know. _The Internet._ ”

“Why is that hot,” Dick asked in a small voice. “That shouldn't be so hot. That’s...” 

Jason took pity on Dick, who looked like he was caught somewhere between the verge of an an orgasm and an aneurysm as he alternated between gaping at and reverently touching the bits of jewelry he’d put on for show. 

“Oh, honey. If you’re getting this worked out about these bad boys, maybe I shouldn’t mention the fifteen others I’ve got in my bag. Oops,” Jason said unapologetically, smirking at the way Dick nearly gave himself whiplash looked up from where he was laving attention on the set of piercings at his right hip. 

Dick opened and closed his mouth once, twice, before jumping his cackling date again. “You’re going to ruin me,” Dick moaned as pathetically as he could, unable to keep the smile from his lips despite looking incredulously turned on, which was emphasized when Dick couldn’t quite keep from grinding against Jason’s ever so conveniently located thigh. Which only served to remind Jason of his own pressing need--and then the two were each struggling to take control of their feverish kisses again, finally working their boxers off with matching sounds of relief before they were replaced with the sound of gratified moans of flesh meeting flesh.

“God, Jason,” Dick panted out harshly between sighs and gasps, unwrapping his arms from Jason’s neck, who’d ultimately won the fight to hover over the other, to slide his hands down from where they were gripping at his shoulders to thumb at the beads on the ends of barbels at his hips, shivering badly beneath him. “You’re _impossibly_ hot,” was all he could manage as Jason licked a hot line down from Dick’s ear to his jaw, rendering the acrobat incoherent as he arched up for more.

Jason smirked smugly to himself at his handiwork, reveling in turning the heir beneath him into a hot, desperate mess, covered in hickies in a blatant show of absolute possession that would get past no one. 

Let alone his omniscient father.

“Does it get you hot,” Jason husked into Dick’s ear as he expertly reached down between them to graph both of their aching cocks in one large hand, and stroking them together, earning matching moans at equally loud volumes, and he had to swallow thickly before he could continue. “Knowing that you’re up here, getting dirty with some boy from the streets, getting off on his big bad piercings--and your daddy’s right downstairs--probably noticed the moment you slipped out--but doesn’t know the _half_ of what his perfect lil’ angel’s getting himself into?”

Jason watched in triumph as Dick sucked in a sharp breath and looked away, flushing darkly and _throbbing_ in his hand against him at the comment. Jason licked his lips predatorily, reaching with his other hand to grip Dick’s chin and jerk his head back up so that their eyes met, no-longer-so-baby blue meeting equally darkened teal.

“Just imagine what he’d think if he saw his lil’ boy right now--making _such a mess_ on his floor,” Jason tsked, swiping his palm over the tips of their cocks to gather the precome leaking and slicken his strokes, making the both of them shudder and buck harder for more, but still he kept talking smoothly, using every last bit of control he possessed to keep his voice steady and his motions rhythmic. “And Timmy--what would _little Timmy_ say,” he taunted lowly, giving a swift nip to Dick’s lobe just to make him keen, “If he saw his big brother now? On his back, under a man he _barely knows,_ practically _begging_ him with his eyes to _fuck him?_ ”

“Oh please,” Dick pleaded in something very nearly like a sob, “Oh, _pleaseplease **please**_ , Jason, _please,_ ” he continued to stammer out in something much like a mantra, gazing up at Jason with glazed eyes, arms once again wrapped tight around the larger man for purchase. “Please, Jason, _please fuck me._ ”

Jason was absolutely certain that his brain short circuited and shut down for a good few moments at Dick’s wanton begging, because one minute he was practically gaping at the nearly pornographic way Dick choked out his plea, and the next he was bucking into Dick’s hand as the acrobat grasped his aching erection to roll a condom onto him. (Jason swore to himself that he’d remember to ask where the hell Dick had grabbed it from, that was in arm’s reach, as he highly doubted that, even when scatterbrained from want, he would never let the gorgeous man out from under him).

“Fuck, Goldie,” Jason growled in a voice that was deep and rough with lust -- and made Dick’s eyes dilate even further, if possible -- and then groaned even lower when Dick couldn’t help but pause in his quest to slide on the condom to give an agonizingly slow, yet expertly executed stroke from base to tip with his free hand, twisting his palm and grazing the tip of his thumb along the underside in a way that made Jason jerk over him with a stifled yell. 

Dick smiled up coyly as he reached the end, and pressed the pad of his thumb against the tip to tease him--

When he froze.

Jason blinked his eyes open as he panted harshly through his mouth, a little confused that he hadn’t realized he’d closed them, and more than a little irritated that the ministrations had stopped so suddenly, and he made to give his best “excuse-you-get-the-fuck-back-to-the-fucking” glare but was stopped by the Look on Dick’s face. 

He arched an eyebrow, glancing down between their bodies pointedly, when he broke into a wry, smug smirk, suddenly piecing together the reason for Dick to have a turn experiencing a trainwreck in his brain.

“Jason,” Dick asked, in a voice that really didn’t sound at all like his own--something much smaller and innocent and fuckable beyond belief, though Jason was beginning to think he just had a kink for Dick, and that something as mundane as the thought of Dick eating cereal could turn him on--and he came back to his senses just in time to hear Dick finish asking “...hat I think this is?”

“Why don’t you look for yourself, baby,” Jason demanded more than asked, and arched an eyebrow when Dick promptly shook his head slowly.

“If I look, I, uhm,” Dick coughed, a little sheepish but completely earnest, “IthinkI’llcome.”

Jason couldn’t help it--his smirk burst into a wide, sultry grin, and he leaned in to drag his lips along the regal column of Dick’s long throat until he reached his ear. “Then I guess you _really_ shouldn’t think ‘bout how it’s gonna be fucking you in a few, hmm?”

“ _Jesus,_ Jay,” Dick gasped weakly as his hips bucked up of their own volition, and Jason let out a long, low moan as he felt precome dribble helplessly from Dick’s cock as it twitched plaintively against his stomach. And suddenly he needed to see just that--see Dick coming hard beneath him, coming _because Jason made him_ , and so he reached down and grasped Dick’s aching length and stroked him hard and fast, dragging startled cries from the heir below him; on a sudden whim, he pressed his cock against Dick’s thigh, making sure to let the cool metal of the ampallang drag against Dick’s feverish skin.

Jason’s cock throbbed jealously when, after only a few more short strokes, Dick was spilling over his fingers with a broken shout, his short nails raking harmlessly down his back as he arched beneath him, coming hard enough to spatter even Jason’s stomach. 

Jason couldn’t help but revel in Dick’s release, because if Dick was naturally stunning, he was fucking gorgeous when he came; damp lashes sticking to his darkly flushed cheeks; his hair absolutely sexed and clinging to the sides of his neck and face; and cherry red, shiny lips parted in a litany of moans as they shakily formed what looked suspiciously like attempts at Jason’s name.

Dick’s fingers uncurled from where they had been clenched into tight fists pressed against the small of Jason’s back and then fell away as his arms went limp, dropping like dead weight to the floor at his sides as his chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath, barely audible whimpers escaping him with each shuddering exhale. 

His blue eyes fluttered open and his breath hitched as he felt a slick finger press against his entrance, but he only offered a languid smile up to his escort, moaning softly but remaining completely lax as the first finger pressed slowly but steadily into him, pressing in shallowly at first in tiny thrusts before slowly pushing deeper with each press in and out, until Jason was working his forefinger in and out of him easily. 

“You’re pretty good at this, Goldie--you sure you’re most popular with the ladies?” Jason teased, already working in a second digit, all thoughts that it was his conveniently cum-slick fingers easing his way disappearing as Dick’s body practically welcomed the intrusion--the heir sighing and staying completely boneless under his touch even as he began scissoring his fingers apart--his only real reaction a soft hissing breath, and it was not of pain, so much as it was pleasure.

“S’one thing to have dates with the ladies,” Dick slurred, and no, Jason did not find that impossibly adorable, because he did not find things adorable (but if there was something that couldn’t be classified by any other name, then Dick slurring contentedly might possibly be it). “But the nights have definitely been preferable to spend with the gents--I was spoiled by the guys I grew up with,” Dick shrugged, letting out a slow, half sigh, half moan and arching as Jason added a third and final finger, thrusting all three in and out together and shuddering at the incredible feeling of Dick’s silken heat. 

Jason couldn’t help but narrow his eyes in a slight scowl at the fond way Dick’s lashes fluttered closed and his lips lifted at the mention of the past men who’d had him. So if he thrust his fingers and crooked them inside of Dick a little rougher than he usually might, if only to remind Dick that there was another man entirely taking him right now, or took an inordinate amount of satisfaction in the way that Dick’s entire body shuddered into a deep arch to press up to his, he wouldn’t say Dick didn’t have it coming -- though, as it was, Jason snickered to himself, that was _precisely_ was he was intending on driving his date to for a second time. 

“ _Oohhh, **fuck** _,” Dick exclaimed in an interesting half scream, half gasp, his nails scrabbling at Jason’s shoulders for purchase as he jerked his hips down again to try and thrust back onto Jason’s fingers again, dragging an unbidden expletive of sheer arousal from the other man, “Godohgod, _oh _, Jason-- _ **there**_ , please, _again_ ,” Dick begged, gazing up so imploringly at Jason that he couldn’t help but continue to drag it out.____

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jason lilted, not sounding sorry at all, smirking lasciviously down at the panting heir beneath him, teal eyes hungrily taking in the way Dick’s pretty pink flush was spreading down from his face to his chest as need began to rush through him again, making him gasp at being brought back to arousal so quickly. He was trembling and already half hard again from Jason’s ministrations, and Jason couldn’t help but be impressed with how quickly he was raring to go again so soon.

“Did you say here?” Jason teased, just barely grazing over the bundle of nerves inside him, making Dick squirm and keen nonsensically but nod his head weakly, eyes unfocused but determinedly boring up into Jason’s--and the way Dick was _looking_ at him made Jason’s other head ask again very loudly why he was taking his sweet time teasing Dick when he could be _taking_ Dick _right now_.

Dick seemed to realize the warring that was going on between Jason’s heads and took that as the perfect opportunity to try and sway the one he wanted, because he suddenly cocked his head, letting it fall back to the floor and, keeping their gazes locked, slowly licked his lips before sweetly whispering, “ _fuck_ me, Jason?”

That was all that was needed to break what little of Jason’s resolve to tease Dick that he had, because then Jason was impatiently snatching the condom up from the floor where it had slipped from Dick’s numb fingers when he’d discovered his latest revealed piercing and sliding it on as quickly as possible while still making sure not to tear it. 

Jason looked up to Dick as soon as he was done with the task, and grinned wildly down at him, enjoying the way Dick’s breath visibly hitched as he lined himself up, leaning in and pressing his lips to the heir’s pulse, feeling it flutter beneath his lips and grazing his skin against the sensitive skin for good measure. “You’re gonna get what you asked for and more, pretty boy,” Jason promised lowly, rocking against Dick teasingly, making his breath catch again. 

“That’d better be a promise, Jay,” Dick returned in an equally sultry voice, not missing a beat, and Jason refused to admit that it felt like his heart jumped into his throat at the melting smile playing on Dick’s lips as he gazed up at him unabashedly, making heat pool even thicker in his stomach and he couldn’t wait any longer and with a low growl Jason was grabbing Dick’s hips and pressing into Dick’s welcoming body, eliciting twin gasps from the both of them.

Jason couldn’t help but bury his face into the crook of Dick’s shoulder to muffle a slew of curses that escaped him as Dick reflexively tightened around him as he breached the tight ring of muscle, He paused, wanting to let him adjust, and he groaned hoarsely when Dick immediately whimpered, “Don’t stop, no, please--Jay--more,” and he did his best to gather what little wits he had remaining to focus on pushing in the rest of the way, surprised by how easily Dick opened up beneath him, and how he met no more resistance. 

Still, it took both of them by surprise when their hips suddenly met, simultaneously feeling as though it had taken both an eternity and no time at all, and only then did they stop to revel in each other. Jason slowly pulled his face back from its spot in the juncture between Dick’s neck and shoulder, only to rest his forehead against Dick’s, unable to keep a shaky grin from his lips as Dick smiled tremulously up at him, his eyes so hazy that only the faintest hints of blue were visible, even so close.

“Y’feel so good, Jay,” Dick murmured, voice cracking a little as Jason shifted a little, and gave a soft, broken sigh as Jason slowly slid back, until he was nearly out all the way - earning a small, protesting noise from the acrobat’s throat - before canting his hips forward smoothly once more, gradually easing them into a slow, deep rhythm that had Dick clutching at the carpet each time Jason pushed as far into him as he could.

Jason had a moment where he thought he was actually going to lose it when Dick suddenly made his godlike flexibility known once more when he suddenly raised a leg to hug against his own chest, and he was graced with a coy, knowing smirk that looked far too smug for a man who he had practically promised to fuck all the way to incoherency. 

Deciding to use that flexibility to both of their advantages, Jason released his vice grip on Dick’s hips, and slid his hands beneath Dick’s thighs, shifting his legs and startling a yelp from the acrobat when he hooked them over his shoulders and thrust forward in one smooth motion--making Dick’s yell turn into a loud moan of delight. He promptly began to rock in earnest back against the other man, wrapping his arms around Jason’s neck for better leverage, and to press their bodies flush together. 

“Fuck, Dickie,” Jason groaned, staring hazily into Dick’s flushed face, eyes darting from his eyes at half-mast, to the way he had his lower lip caught between his teeth -- he was biting his lower lip so hard Jason was shocked there wasn’t blood. 

“Jason,” Dick panted, and then gasped again and again, because it seemed like it was the only two syllables that he could properly string together at the moment, besides the occasional “please,” and “yes,” and “more.” 

And then Jason hoisted Dick’s legs up higher and shifted his weight for better purchase before slamming into the heir, and Dick’s head fell back with a high pitched wail, his fingers scrambling to clutch at Jason’s hair, making him hiss in a mix of pleasure and pain. 

“ _Fuck,_ ” Dick choked out, his words strung out between shallow pants, “there, Jason _please_ , there _there_ \--” his voice broke off into a soundless scream as Jason promptly thrust in again at the same angle, striking his prostate head on and stealing the breath from him as he kicked up their rhythm into something faster and merciless, making sure to ram into his sweet spot with each thrust. 

“Look at you,” Jason practically groaned, panting just as hard as Dick, but delighting in having so much less trouble stringing the words he wanted together, “fucking begging me for more like a little slut. Hell, between the two of us, you’d think _I_ was the one who picked _you_ up for a fuck--” and here, Jason let out a playful, thoughtful sound, as he slid one hand up to twist at one of Dick’s dusky nipples, choking a soft scream out of him-- “oh. Well, actually, when you think about it, I guess I kinda did, didn’t I?” Jason drawled breathlessly, grunting as he gave three more successive thrusts into the quivering mess Dick was quickly becoming beneath him. “Who bought that perky little ass of yours tonight, huh, Wayne Junior?”

“You did,” Dick said in a small voice that sounded very nearly aroused to the point of pain--and that went straight to Jason’s cock, as Dick could instantly tell by the way he whined needily when it twitched eagerly inside him. Jason swore tightly when Dick bore down hard around him in response, only inciting him to buck harder and faster, his thrusts becoming shallower even as he stayed buried deeper.

“And who’s gonna make you cum your brains out as _many times_ as he fucking _wants,_ Dickie Grayson?” Jason growled into Dick’s ear as he thumbed at his other nipple, sucking and biting at his earlobe for good measure and ripping another loud cry from the acrobat.

“Y-you, Jay, _Jason-- **you**_ ,” he almost sobbed, his chest heaving erratically beneath Jason’s, overwhelmed tears wetting his already damp lashes and mixing with his sweat slick skin. 

“So you’re gonna cum for me like the good little boy you are when I fucking say so, won’t you?” Jason purred against Dick’s lips, flicking his tongue against the seam of the heir’s lips and groaning softly when the tip of Dick’s tongue eagerly met his in response, and the other man moaned his assent into Jason’s mouth even as they slipped into a filthy, wet, hot kiss that was more of a clash of desperate tongues and teeth than anything.

Jason panted hard against Dick’s mouth as his thrusts became erratic as the heat in his gut coiled tighter and tighter, as all he could hear narrowed down to the slap of skin against skin and Dick’s moans and his own blood roaring in his ears, and all that mattered were the blazingly hot points of contact between them--and so Jason reached down between their slick bodies and wrapped his large, calloused hand around Dick’s steadily leaking erection to pump once, twice--in time with their thrusts.

Dick’s entire body ached up and off the floor, his nails digging into the nape of Jason’s neck and shoulders, and outright sobbing his pleasure and desperation and want--but he didn’t come, his entire body taught with the strain of it, the faintest hint of blue peering out from beneath lowered lashes and silently begging for release, too far gone for words even as his mouth continued to silently form his name over and over again.

Feeling his own climax nearly upon him, Jason dragged his lips from the corner of Dick’s red, swollen lips to his ear, breathing “good boy, cum for me, baby,” against the abused flesh--and white flashed sparked across his vision as Dick fucking _mewled_ his name as he came and came _hard_ , hot come spurting onto his chest, a few drops even hitting his throat and jaw and while the sight alone would have been more than enough to make Jason come, the acrobat tightened _impossibly_ around his cock, and Jason shouted his pleasure as Dick’s body milked him for all he was worth, working him through the aftershocks.

At last, after what felt like a small eternity, Jason stopped coming, and he carefully pulled out of the other man--a tiny sound of protest the only sign that Dick was even slightly aware. 

Tying the condom, he chucked it to the side of the room he’d vaguely thought he’d seen a trash can, before promptly collapsing to rest on his elbows over Dick, distantly priding himself on not simply flopping down onto the other man, who had to be feeling sore by now--and if he wasn’t yet, well, he would be for days the possessive part of Jason’s brain gloated. 

Though he himself was so dazed, he was sure that Dick wasn’t the only one who’d be feeling repercussion from the exertion--they’d gotten admittedly wild. Jason’s brain proudly noted that he’d never come so hard in his life, and he sighed his contentment into the hollow of Dick’s throat, leaving slow, lazy kisses all over his golden skin, basking in the afterglow and soaking in as much as he could of the Wayne heir. 

“Hey, Dickie, you in there?” Jason mumbled against Dick’s still-heated after a good five minutes had passed without any sign of awareness from the other man. “I didn’t sex break you, did I?” he asked wryly, raising his head slightly to try and catch a glimpse of Dick’s face; he was slightly relieved to see a dazed smile seemingly plastered to the millionaire’s face.

“I dunno,” Dick laughed back, his voice still little raw and somehow a thousand times sexier for it. “There was definately sex. Lots and lots of glorious sex. And it was definitely the best break I’ve had all night,” he teased happily, earning a dramatic groan from the other man even as he started to search half heartedly for something to clean themselves up with. A box of tissues on a vanity caught his eye, and Jason pulled himself to his feet to walk bonelessly over to grab a handful, chucking them at Dick.

Jason smirked at his indignant huff when the proffered tissues fluttered to the ground a good few feet away from him, and baby blue eyes shifted to him with playful accusation. He arched an eyebrow and shrugged helplessly at Dick, but couldn’t help but wince at the way the tissues stuck to his skin as he rubbed at the quickly dying mess on his fingers and stomach.

“Jerk,” Dick grumbled goodnaturedly when it became clear that Jason didn’t intend to lift a finger more to help him, his smile widening when Jason promptly countered with a sweet, “get them yourself, you lazy bitch.”

“S’with all the make up, Dickie--you entertain the ladies in here too?” Jason meant for it to look and come out much snarkier than it did, but his expression shifted into one of sincere admiration as the acrobat ambled easily to his feet, and wandered over to where he’d tossed the bunched tissues, his gaze immediately drawn to Dick’s pert ass as he bent to get them, snickering when DIck made a face of similar disgust at the difficulty he had cleaning himself. 

“Nah, this room’s pretty much off-limits for guests; you’re the first person to come in here who hasn’t been ‘specially approved,’” Dick sighed, pouting when his first tissue ripped, and he crumpled it into a ball and dropped it before attacking the dried cum on his neck with a second.

“The first, huh?” Jason tried not to sound as proud as he felt, instead aiming for casual even knowing he was missing his target completely. “Damn, do I even _wanna_ know whatcha gotta do for the big man to get _special permission?_ What, do you have to sign over your eternal soul or your first child for Wayne Training or something? Wait, I know--it’s both, isn’t it?” Jason chuckled, before it slowly died off, and he was left staring at Dick’s raised eyebrows.

“You’re...remarkably astute, Jay, has anyone ever told you that?” Dick laughed uncertainly for a moment, before genuine amusement brightened his gaze at Jason’s scandalized look. “No no, nothing concerning firstborns--but there’s definitely a degree of truth to the whole Wayne Training thing you threw out there.”

“You’re shitting me,” Jason deadpanned, and yet he couldn’t help but not be taken by surprise.

Because it was common knowledge that Bruce Wayne was as paranoid as he was charismatic -- a hundred and ten percent.

“Jesus, what does the B-man’s crew have to do?” Jason asked dubiously. 

“Sorry, that’s pretty much classified,” Dick replied blankly. Jason’s eyes widened like saucers, and Dick kept a straight face for all of three seconds before he burst out giggling madly.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just--I had to, _your face,_ ” Dick cackled, only settling down when Jason rolled his eyes and swatted him up the back of the head. “It’s not a big deal--it’s just that Bruce has always pre-approved the guys who come up here. Basically, it means they’re recruited to be one of our V.I.P dates for events with short notice, and our personal ‘bodyguards’ after being sworn to secrecy.” He gave a wide, sweeping gesture over towards the vanity, “No small part being because all that makeup is for me and Timmy--as are the wigs and dresses in the walk-in closet in the adjoining bathroom. Could you imagine if someone snuck in here and walked in on us doing each other’s makeup?” 

Dick laughed aloud at the blatant stare Jason was leveling at him. “What? You saw him out there tonight, in all his draggy glory--it’s not too far-fetched for you to believe that maybe I slip on an over-the shoulder boulder holder from time to time, is it?”

Jason’s mind went offline for a few good moments as he tried to picture Dick in a dress -- long, slender limbs decked in jewels, dark hair teased to perfection with the ends curling around his cheeks, smiling lips painted ruby red as he sashayed around on matching red pumps--

“So I’m keeping the faith that it ain’t gonna be too much to hope for a shower tonight? Where I’m thinking that maybe we could get clean and then get dirty all over again having a repeat performance?” Jason grinned, rolling the ruined tissues he’d been twisting around idly in his hands into a ball and, aiming for the wastebasket on the other side of the room, shot it over in a perfect arc. 

The pair silently watched it sail across the room to land perfectly on the pile, balancing there innocently at the top.

Dick’s jaw dropped, and the gaze he slowly turned on Jason was flat as he stared disbelievingly at Jason’s smug face.

“Who’s a lazy bitch, now?” Dick countered incredulously, but his eyes were sparkling with delight and a wide smile threatened to split his face at any given moment. He suddenly dashed over to his clothes, tugging them haphazardly on for seemingly modesty’s sake, before tossing Jason’s at him as well. “C’mon, Jay, we can shower in my bathroom--where we can have our first repeat performance and I can pay you back for that first orgam I owe you--don’t you think I forgot,” Dick winked sultrily, buttoning his irrevocably wrinkled shirt up halfway before impatiently giving up and twirling towards the door, glancing over his shoulder coyly before slipping out.

Jason swore softly as he nearly toppled over as he struggled to thrust his foot into his other pants’ leg, barely zipping them up and only deining to throw his shirt on, not even waiting around to button it (because _fuck that shit_ , he had _better_ things to do, like fuck the smile off that acrobat and into whatever luxury shower stall wall he obviously had to have) and hastily bundling his socks, shoes and jacket under his arm before rushing out after Dick who’d gone on ahead and sauntered down the hall without him.

* * *

A few moments of silence passed after the door slammed behind Jason, before the bathroom door opened and a very dazed, very hard, very disheveled Tim stumbled weakly out of the bathroom, his legs buckling beneath him as he fell onto all fours on the very spot Jason and Dick had made a mess of just minutes ago. Gasping, he stuck his hand down the front of his lacy boyshorts to grasp his aching cock with already sticky fingers, barely even stroking himself before ribbons of cum once again soaked his fingers and panties. He curled into himself as he fell apart into a shuddering mess, and couldn’t seem to stop coming. 

Finally, after regaining his breath he slowly drew back, slipping his hand out of his underwear and staring at it dazedly, before his eyes were drawn to the tissues Dick had dropped carelessly before.slowly dragging himself to his feet and staggering over to the vanity to plop himself down and gather his senses as he drew the last few tissues from the abused tissue box, shakily wiping himself down and similarly crumpling and letting the tissues fall from his hand to the ground. At last, he let himself headdesk the beautiful marbled countertop, dragging his hot, flushed face over the cool surface and desperately asking aloud “ _how is this my life_.”

* * *

“Shit, Goldie, and here I didn’t think you could possibly look any better than when you were under me,” Jason groaned, his words nearly swallowed up by the white noise of the running water, preoccupied with keeping his hands on Dick’s waist as he pressed himself back against the wall for purchase, panting into and nipping sharply at Dick’s ear as the acrobat grinded against him, moaning breathlessly against his shoulder. 

Jason couldn’t help but feel smug at how far gone Dick already was, and he cautiously let his hands start to run over Dick’s back and sides, reveling in how good Dick felt under his hands, but mostly just struck by the way Dick looked _wet_. He’d gotten his fill of Dick’s deliciously toned body earlier, but it was another thing entirely to see his golden skin glistening under the stream and the low light of the gargantuan bathroom (Jason was 99% sure that it could easily swallow his bedroom--hell, the shower stall was the size of his _entire_ bathroom). 

But he really was a breathtaking sight to see; inky black hair spilling over his shoulders, blue eyes standing out startlingly bright through his dark, damp lashes against his heated skin, and his lips swollen and red from how hard he was biting at them in vain to stifle his cries.

Dick pulled back to meet Jason’s eyes, smiling softly at the praise even if his eyebrows were knitted together, as he stayed focused on seeking their pleasure. His head lolled a little with a small sigh as Jason’s fingers found their way back to his entrance, massaging the already stretched muscle and working slick fingers into him at an agonizingly slow pace, if the pleading whimpers DIck was emitting were any indication, as if the way he canted his hips back to meet Jason’s hand wasn’t clear enough.

When Dick’s knees began to buckle, Jason immediately withdrew his fingers to steady the heir with both hands, despite the nearly heartbreaking sound of loss Dick gave at their removal, and he kissed the acrobat passionately to placate him, moving their mouths together slowly and hotly, licking as deep as he could before slowly pulling back with one last kiss placed to Dick’s upper and lower lips, respectively--earning a smile from the other man.

“C’mon, Dickie, out,” Jason ordered throatily, guiding his date out of the shower and into one of the two warm, fluffy towels hung on the hook on the nearest rack (supplied to them courtesy of Alfred, Jason suspected, though he was a little scandalized when he began to wonder _how_ Alfred -or any staff member, for that matter - would have known so promptly to prepare freshly laundered towels for one, let alone _two_ ) -- “I don’t want you breaking your billionaire neck and having your daddy sue my equally _broke_ ass for _your_ medical bills.”

He rolled his eyes but inwardly preened at the way Dick’s legs remained like jelly beneath him as he dried himself off, but never took his eyes off of Jason, staring after him longingly as he made a show of taking his sweet time to dry off. 

The moment he dropped the towel, and not a second later, Dick’s fingers were wrapping around his wrist so he could tug him out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, where he proceeded to promptly spin about and fall onto his bed, pulling a yelping Jason down on top of him. Dick laughed brightly beneath the scowling weight of his escort and pulled him down into another deep kiss so full of heat and promise that it sent the odd thought through Jason’s head that this was what kissing sunshine was like, what is tasted like. 

Jason groaned appreciatively into Dick’s mouth, sliding his hands down along his spine to grope at Dick’s ass, allowing his fingers to return to their task of spreading Dick open again, pleased to feel that the man beneath him was still stretched and pliant and not shying from his touch at all, rather he was arching for it, even squeezing teasingly around his digits, making him hiss a curse through his teeth as the feeling of Dick’s muscles tightening around his fingers in a suggestion of what was to come made his cock twitch in interest, never mind that he’d had the very experience not twenty minutes ago.

“Jesus,” Dick panted, tangling his fingers in his own hair as he writhed beneath Jason’s expert touches, hips bucking of their own accord as the escort found his prostate without even trying, rubbing his fingers into the already over-sensitised tight bundle of nerves and making stars explode across his vision. He only moaned louder when Jason began to grind his cock against his thigh for relief, and he wriggled needily beneath the larger man, breath hitching loudly with each press of his erection against his skin. 

“Jay, oh _Jay, **ohh** , Jay,_” Dick sobbed out suddenly in a tight voice as Jason teasingly pressed a hint of a fourth finger at his twitching hole, keeping the pad of his finger pressed against the ring of muscle even as he continued to slide his three fingers in and out. Dck licked his puffy lips and forced his eyes open to meet Jason’s eyes imploringly, albeit hazily, one hand shakily sliding down his front. He kept his eyes glued to Jason, watching Jason’s gaze follow his hand’s path with laser-like intensity, and the corners of his lips twitched weakly when Jason sucked in a sharp breath of surprised pleasure when he wrapped his hand around his erection to stroke slowly as he sighed “ _want you in me, please, Jay_ ” -- sending Jason into a frenzy as he patted his side down stupidly for a condom before glancing about wildly, clearly trying to remember where he’d stashed his bag. 

Dick felt the moment his eyes landed on it, because he tensed to spring off and over across the room, and he quickly slid his fingers around Jason’s wrist, catching the other man off guard and getting his attention.

“Oh, please,” Dick pleaded in a voice barely above a whisper, gazing up earnestly at the other man, “I want to actually feel you Jay, wanna feel--feel _you, just_ you,” he broke off as his voice cracked, and he caught his lower lip between his teeth, looking up imploringly at the older man and hoping his face could convey better than his words just how much he wanted this. 

Jason seemingly froze, and for a moment Dick’s stomach gave a worried lurch before his face seemed to soften and open, yet close and grow more serious all at the same time. 

“Yeah, okay,” he said softly, carefully, “that's something we can do, Dickie.” He paused, before jabbing his pointer finger solidly right against Dick’s sternum, almost staring him down.

“But you gotta swear up and down that you're clean and have been tested in the past six months, and haven't done any weird shit, because this is basically my livelihood (and my manhood) that we're talkin’ ‘bout, and I don't want it fallin’ off next week or somethin’ all because _you_ couldn't keep yours _out_ of some society darling at the last benefit," he demanded firmly. 

Whatever tension had gathered in his shoulders quickly began to melt away, however, when Dick brightened immediately at his request, looking happy and relieved and smiling like he’d fucking won the lottery, and not some nobody off the Gotham streets. 

“Yeah, I can do that,” Dick reassured him warmly, looking for all the world like he couldn’t be happier to be able to have this, _have Jason,_ and Jason couldn’t help but shake his head at the heir’s infectious smile, feeling the corners of his own lips tilt up despite his seriousness. “I can even do you one better. Bruce has us get checked every three months--and Tim isn’t even sexually active,” Dick rolled his eyes good naturedly, but his cheeks were flushed happily, and he shifted beneath Jason so that he could push himself up onto one elbow as he reached over for his nightstand.

Jason arched an eyebrow as he watched Dick open the drawer and fumble blindly with one hand for something. “You’re not getting the results out to show me, are you?” he joked, “because I believe you, Dickie--I don’t think you could fucking lie if you tried.”

Dick snorted softly but continued searching with his fingers, the tip of his tongue sticking out from between his lips. “No, I’m not but I take offense to that--I’m a _perfectly_ good liar when I want to be. Need to be,” he amended at Jason’s wry expression, letting out an _aha!_ of success when his fingers closed around his prize, and he retrieve a bottle of lube from its not-so-subtle hiding place, handing it off to Jason with a flourish, who rolled his eyes but snagged it all the same, whistling exaggeratedly at the fancy name brand before pouring a liberal amount in his palm. 

“I s’pose that’s true--you didn’t even bat an eye about making up a check from _Mr. Peters_ for _thousands of dollars_ at Win-A-Date tonight--I guess that speaks volumes about your abilities,” Jason admitted, spreading the slick over his heavy erection before pooling what remained into his hand to rub teasingly along the cleft of Dick’s ass, making him shiver and moan softly under him. 

“See?” Dick asked breathlessly as Jason lined himself up, shifting over the acrobat for better leverage and grasping his waist firmly. “You’ve got all the proof you needed tonig--oh, God, Jason _please,_ ” Dick finally broke off from his strained spiel with an impatient wail as Jason nudged softly against him, rubbing the tip against his entrance again and again and rocking slowly, suggestively, until he was at his wits end. 

“What was that, Dickie?” Jason hummed, “please _what?”_

“ _Fuck_ me, please _**please,**_ Jason-- _please let me feel you inside me, __” Dick begged, and with that what little restraint Jason had left was smashed into a million pieces as he thrust smoothly into Dick, swearing loudly but not loud enough to drown out Dick’s broken cry of his name as he seated himself in one slick movement, taking both of them by surprise._

“ _Ohh_ , Jason,” Dick whimpered, his fingers ghosting up Jason’s sides, his palms mapping out the medley of raised skin and metal between old scars and piercings, mixed with the smooth slide of the hint of sweat over toned muscles, and just closing his eyes and letting himself be swept up in _feeling_. “You feel--God, you feel so _good,_ ” he moaned lowly.

“Fuck,” was all Jason could grit shakily out in response, bowing his head to press his chin against his chest and forcing himself to remember to breathe in and out again, as Dick squeezed experimentally around him and shifted unconsciously. He gazed at Dick with dark, hazy eyes, unable to help but wonder if the heir even knew how much of a tease he was.

Because It was all Jason could do to keep from immediately pounding Dick into the mattress--they both knew Dick could take it, what with the way he’d taken Jason earlier like a pro and _really_ , the way he was talking was practically _pornographic_ \--but the blatant, languid delight on Dick’s face helped give him pause. He figured it was understandable, that he was so skeptical, but it was difficult for him to believe that a walking, talking, breathing _sexgod_ like Dick was such a down to earth, in the moment lover, to the point where, even with a kid from the streets, he radiated genuine warmth and affection and the mind-boggling sentiment that _he really wouldn’t_ rather be anywhere else in this moment, let alone with _anyone else._

And fucking Dick Grayson could veritably have _anyone._

Yet here he, street-brat Jason Peter Todd, was, buried balls deep in millionaire Dick Grayson’s gorgeous, celebrated ass, about to fuck him into oblivion for the second time tonight (but by no means the last time, if the way Dick continued to drive his libido to frankly ridiculous heights was any indication). 

“Jay?” Jason was brought back from his increasingly incredulous thoughts about the absolute _insanity_ of this situation with a soft touch, and found himself blinking down at Dick, who was smiling almost _shyly_ up at him as he cupped his face, running his thumb over his lower lip,which Jason promptly licked out of reflex. Dick’s smile widened, and, yeah, that was, somehow, a _blush_ that was rising to Dick’s cheeks, coloring them prettily and making his bright blue eyes pop.

“Don’t tell me you’re gettin’ shy on me _now_ , you slut,” Jason scoffed softly, unable to help himself from running a finger over Dick’s lips in response, startling a laugh from the other man in response. Dick lapped at the pad of Jaon’s finger before his lips curved wider, even as his flush darkened.

“No, nothing like that,” Dick hummed. “S’just, I, uhm--don’t get to do this a lot,” he said honestly, his eyes searching Jason’s as if to make sure he understood. “I don’t get to be close to my dates--and almost never like this,” he continued. “Not that I don’t love the glove,” and he couldn’t help but giggle when Jason’s eyebrows shot up disbelievingly before falling flat once more. “But, it’s nice to get close--really close, from time to time,” he sighed happily, trailing his fingertips idly down Jason’s chest, fingers helplessly drawn like magnets to touch Jason’s piercings. 

“So, just, thanks,” Dick said suddenly, meeting Jason’s gaze earnestly. “For letting me just have this, for a little longer.”

“Fucking sap,” Jason replied without venom, maybe even with a hint more warmth than he meant to let on. “We could bottle that shit up and sell it for millions. Run Canada out of business. Fuck Canada and their fancy maples.” 

He smirked at the delighted laugh that bubbled out of the heir, and took immense pleasure in quickly making that sound melt into a moan as he slowly drew back an inch before pushing smoothly back in. He grudgingly had to admit that the fancy stuff Dick gave him before was pretty fucking mind blowing, because there was absolutely no resistance as he eased in and out, quickly settling into a rhythm that left both of them ready for more. 

“No, but really,” Jason grunted roughly out of the blue a good few minutes later, interrupting the soft sounds of skin slapping skin and breath and moans. “You’re worth a helluva lot of money. I mean _Jesus_ , Dick, I bought a _night out_ with you for more than I make with all _my_ nights put together in a fucking _year._ ”

Dick gasped out a weak laugh, arching into Jason’s thrusts as he teasingly grazed against his prostate, leaving him shaking and impatient for more. “Y-yeah, it’s-- _uhnn_ -a b-bit crazy--it’s just a date,” Dick shrugged slightly, his fingers curling into the sheets to tug hard when Jason gave a particularly well aimed thrust. 

Jason grinned wildly, shifting on his knees before slamming home again with even better leverage, eyes glinting in satisfaction when Dick had to muffle a particularly loud cry with the heel of his hand. “I dunno,” Jason sing-songed, “this doesn’t seem like the _average date_ to me. _Fuck,_ I’d buy _all your nights_ if I had the money and this is what it meant I got out of it.” 

Dick smiled around the knuckles he was now biting in a pitiful attempt to keep quiet. “Yeah, well, you’re _quite_ an exception,” he panted, eyes sparkling up at the other man. “You won me before you actually even _won_ me.” 

Jason could only smirk and shake his head as he struggled to catch his breath, opening his mouth to speak but momentarily unable to form words, as Dick did _something_ with his hips that swept his mind blank with pleasure. Once his brain came back online and he remembered _words_ , he continued on with his thought. 

“But could you even _imagine_ ,” he bit out, responding with a much rougher thrust than before, ripping a high pitched whine from the acrobat. “If people knew they had sexual favors in store with you -- _guaranteed -- how_ much money you’d make? Fuck,” he snorted, “How much money anyone could make doing Bid-a-Date with sexul favors?”

Their rhythm faltered for a moment as they locked eyes, before bursting out into snickers -- until Jason replaced Dick’s laughter with even sweeter moans as he began fucking him into the bed in earnest.

* * *

“But think about it,” Dick hummed, his mouth popping off of Jason’ cock with an obscene sound, licking his spit shiny lips as he blinked up earnestly at Jason from between his legs, making the other man lift his arm from where he’d flung it over his face (because watching Dick suck him off was either a.) going to make him blow his load way too soon or b.) going give him an aneurysm or some weird shit like that that was going to kill him). “If date nights go for _hundreds of thousands of dollars,_ what would a _hand job_ go for, or a blow job--?”

* * *

“We should have a poll,” Jason said even as he nudged Dick over and over with his elbow to wake him up, smirking at the bewildered, sleepy look the acrobat shot at him.

“A wha’?” Dick slurred, rubbing at his eyes and rotating his jaw experimentally, wincing slightly.

“A poll. Y’know, to figure out how much people would spend on a hand job or blow job from you, respectably,” Jason explained matter-of-factly. “I think we need to know. It’s suddenly become vitally important for me to know. It’s gonna keep me up at night,” Jason lamented dramatically, smirking as Dick crawled into his lap. 

“So I think it should be sent out in a mass e-mail. Ooh! Or in some of those fancy shmancy letters that you rich people spend an arm or a leg of some poor human sacrifice on for rsvps--mmpgh,” Jason finished indignantly, as Dick nearly bowled him over in a demanding kiss, huffing breathlessly when the acrobat pulled away, glaring up at Dick where he was now hovering over him, pinning him down to the bed.

“The fuck, Dick, I wasn’t done talking yet. There are _better ways_ to tell me to shut up. _Polite ways._ Ones with words.”

“Kinda like there are other ways to ask me to shut up and blow you that _aren’t_ shoving your dick in my mouth?” Dick asked sweetly and not at all passive-aggressively. 

“Shut the fuck up, you were asking for it. There are just some things that shouldn’t be interrupted by business. Like blow jobs. _Never_ blow jobs,” Jason informed him solemnly, before flipping them over with ease, nudging Dick’s nose with his own and sliding a hand slowly down between their bodies, before suddenly speaking up again.

“And don’t even pretend that you’re offended--you _liked it_ , I saw you cum buckets when I pulled your hair.”

* * *

“T’s not just me,” Dick murmured against Jason’s lips as they parted briefly for air, sighing contentedly when Jason promptly went back to practically devouring his mouth as soon as he’d gotten his fill of oxygen. “Timmy’s really popular, too--but,” and here he trailed off uncomfortably, making Jason pause as he felt Dick’s lips tug into a slight frown, and he pulled back to stare at his date. 

“He wouldn’t be into the sex scene. Not to mention, he’s my _baby brother,_ ” Dick muttered, shifting uncomfortably beneath Jason. “As much as I hate to admit it, though, he won’t let us hear the end of it if we leave him out of this enterprise. I mean, Bruce has practically been grooming him into his perfect mini-me since he was adopted. I swear, he’s gonna be running W.E one of these days,” Dick shook his head. 

“But B passed on the businessman gene to Timmy, and Tim is too much of a conniving little manipulative monopolizing bastard to let this opportunity slip through his fingers,” Dick said fondly, making Jason raise his eyebrows. Dick smiled pityingly. “Don’t let him fool you, he’s a cruel cold-hearted brat when he wants to be,” he confessed. 

“When he was nine and I was fifteen, he somehow roped me into doing his chores for three months before I realized what was going on.”

Jason’s eyebrows lifted impossibly higher. Dick shrugged helplessly. 

“I’m just saying. He’s in this now, whether I want it or not. Somewhere, Tim’s palms are itching right now, I know it.“

Jason made it a point to wait patiently until Dick was done speaking this time, before tackling him back down into the pillows to plunder his mouth some more. He was pretty sure Dick appreciated it but there was no way he was going to stop to ask him. 

* * *

When Jason awoke, it was to two immediate feelings. 

Firstly, the distinct, inherent feeling of _overslept. **fuck**._

Secondly, was the feeling of Dick lining himself up over him.

Dick seemed to noticed the second Jason was awake, because he found himself blinking sleepily up into Dick’s dazzling baby blues. 

"You were already half hard and on your back, I figured you'd wake up when I bottomed out," Dick explained casually, before sinking right down onto him before he could reply-- suddenly, Jason was a lot more awake.

The rising panic that had started welling up at Jason’s realization of his “morning” being mixed with his “client” was shoved aside to some distant part of his brain as his mind was replaced with a much more pleasant blankness as his world narrowed down once more to just Dick and a few more abstract concepts like _here, now_ and _more._

Also, it was pretty hard to freak out when he was lying on what he was suspecting used to be a fucking cloud, covered with what had to be at least a thousand thread Egyptian cotton sheets, and had a born and raised circus boy with a heart of freaking gold smiling down at him like _he’d_ won the bidding contest and still couldn’t believe his luck. 

Pretty soon, Jason figured he was going to have to start questioning “ _what was his life_ ” again, but for now there were much more interesting things at hand; a prime example being the gorgeous man in his lap, riding him like he was made for it.

It wasn’t anything at all like the hungry, dirty, incredible marathon sex that they’d had all night -- _and he meant all night_ , because he did _not_ make oversleeping and possibly overstaying his welcome a habit (though then again, Dick was not like most people, his libido included) -- this was slow, warm, soft, and just this side of lazy. 

It was exactly the sort of sex Jason would peg Dick for loving.

“You’re a morning person,” Jason finally managed to string together coherently, a bit accusingly, and only slurring a little, narrowing his eyes at the giddily smiling acrobat above him. Dick laughed breathlessly, the first hints of sweat catching the particularly stubborn rays of sunlight that pierced through the blinds, making him look almost ethereal. 

“Always have been,” Dick confessed before interrupting himself with a half sigh, half moan that Jason liked so much that he mimicked his last thrust just to hear it again. Dick let out a small sound as his brows knit together slightly, as if it was all he could do to focus enough for a few seconds to figure out what he wanted to say. His face brightened when he remembered, and Jason barely bit back his snicker at Dick’s distracted smile (because it was totally stupid, not because it was cute or anything). 

“Got up early with the circus as far back as I can remember--never managed to change my internal alarm clock,” he explained good-humoredly, sighing as he trailed his hand down his chest before curling his fingers around his own cock and stroking leisurely, his breath hitching softly and so yeah, maybe Jason’s toes curled a little at the sound and his blissed out expression, but it wasn’t like Dick could see that. “Got to...feed Zitka...if I got up early enough.”

Jason forced his eyes open to offer Dick a decidedly lost look at that strange sentence. “Th’ fuck ‘s a Zitka?” he asked between shallow breaths, raising his hands to scratch harmlessly down Dick’s sides, his gaze drawn to the lines he was drawing, and then lower to appreciate the (spectacular) array of hickie’s he’d left all over the acrobat last night.

“Best friend,” Dick murmured distractedly as his eyes fluttered closed and his expression tightened as he found the angle Jason had been happily abusing the evening prior.

Jason’s eyebrows nearly touched his hairline.

“Do you _usually_ make it a habit to spoon feed your friends breakfast? Is this something I should be mentally preparing myself for?” Jason asked slowly, with enough dubiousness in his voice that Dick faltered and opened his eyes once more to pin Jason with a curious look, before he seemed to process what he’d said and began to laugh so hard he nearly toppled over and off of Jason.

“Nn-nghh, no, no,” Dick laughed through a groan as he rubbed Jason’s cock into his prostate as he hastened to shift to regain his balance before starting to roll his hips against Jason’s one more. “She’s an _elephant._ ”

“Well that’s not very nice, Dickie.”

“I--...nnh, _what_?--o-oh, _n-no, no_ , I mean _literally_ , she’s an _ele_ phaaahhnt,” Dick whined, his focus wavering badly between trying to explain and trying to pursue yet another mind-blowing orgasm. “O-one of the...animals...at Haly’s... _God_ , Jason,” Dick whimpered, looking frustrated as he continued to raise and drop his hips, but couldn’t seem to hit the angle he wanted hard enough. Jason took that as an invitation to put their frankly ridiculous and nonsensical conversation on hold and give them both a hand, grabbing Dick’s hips to pull all the way out.

He ignored Dick’s cry of protest at the loss, and rolled them over before Dick could do anything about it, smoothly thrusting back in as he hoisted one of Dick’s bendy legs up to hook around his waist, fucking the heir into the mattress much to his very audible delight.

Because as much as Jason liked Dick -- and he _really, **really**_ liked Dick -- there was a time for talking, and there was a time for silence.

Well, maybe not silence, because Dick was _not_ a quiet lover. But then again, Jason had never really considered having his name whimpered in a mantra of ecstasy talking. 

He could work with that. 

* * *

What Jason was not sure he could work with, however, was Dick’s insistence that he at least eat some breakfast before he left. 

Dinner with a client? It was far fetched, but he’d been there, done that before. 

But breakfast was another thing _entirely_ , and Jason just wasn’t sure he was mentally prepared for that. 

“If you think you can convince me that you’re not hungry after all the sex we just had,” Dick had said calmly in response to Jason’s attempt to decline while they were still sprawled out together, catching their breath, “You, my friend, are sadly mistaken,” he declared, poking Jason’s forehead for emphasis.

Jason had opened his mouth to reply with a witty retort--

When his stomach had loudly and rudely grumbled between them, the traitor. 

And then, to top it all off, he’d looked into Dick’s eyes, and the battle was lost, because. Puppy dog eyes. 

_Dick was nothing less than a black belt in them._

Which was how Jason Todd found himself spending his start of the day showering (again) and eating breakfast at Wayne Fucking Manor at half past two in the afternoon.

While he had been extremely well-informed of Alfred’s ability to cook The Breakfast Of Champions all the way down the stairs, Jason wasn’t really sure he was comfortable asking the elderly man to whip something up for him--suffice to say, he was relieved when they entered the dining room, and saw that cereal was an option. 

“Morning Sleeping Beauty,” Dick teased as he took a seat next to...what appeared to be a wall of cereals. Jason was confused until a dark head of impressive bedhead raised from behind the fortress of General Mills selections, and he grinned widely. 

“Hey there Timmy-- _you’re_ looking more delectable than breakfast this morning,” Jason greeted as he took a seat on Dick’s other side, waggling his eyebrows suggestively at the clearly half-asleep teen. Tim blinked owlishly at him, before shaking his head and muttering “too early for this shit” as he groped blindly for a impressive cup of coffee, taking a long, slow drag from it and closing his eyes in bliss. 

Or, to go back to sleep. Neither Dick or Jason was honestly all that sure. 

“You okay there, buddy? You don’t look like you got a lick of sleep,” Dick asked worriedly craning his head a little to try and catch a better glimpse of Tim’s face around his giant mug. 

“Maybe that’s because he _wasn’t sleeping,_ ” Jason pointed out helpfully, grinning when Tim set the coffee mug down a little louder than necessary. “Maybe he found something better _to do_. I know we did,” Jason smirked over to Dick, who smiled brightly back at him, the innuendo somehow seeming to fly over his head with Tim dragged into it.

Tim replied by yawning widely, and through Dick’s delighted coos of how cute his little brother was in the morning, Jason _swore_ he heard Tim sweetly murmur “Die. Slowly.” through his yawn. Dick didn’t seem to acknowledge anything strange, though, so he decided to let it go in favor of pursuing his choice of the slightly alarming array of cereals arranged on the table.

“You should really know that I fully intend collect on my winning bid, Timmy. Even if I haven’t had time to claim it yet. I got. Detained,” he snorted, catching Dick’s gaze from the corner of his eye and watching the acrobat splutter as he nearly choked on his cereal, caught between laughing and looking scandalized that he would even _suggest_ sex in front of his innocent baby brother. 

“I’m sure you did. Get detained, that is. Found better things _to do,_ ” Tim hummed, and Jason’s eyes widened a little, because _morning_ Tim was a _snarky_ Tim, who was nothing like shy little _prim and proper_ Tim from the gala and the tabloids-- _who knew?_

Also, definitely kind of really hot. Something to test and toy around with, for sure.

The Waynes just got more and more interesting the longer he knew them. It was quickly becoming much less of a surprise to him that people would actively _follow_ this family in the papers. But _oh,_ if they only knew the _real_ Waynes -- _these_ were the kind of people who really ought to have a fucking reality show, because _damn_ if they weren’t fun to watch.

“So. You a Lucky Charms or a Frosted Flakes kinda guy Timmers? ‘Cause, uh...what’s with all the cereal?” Jason had to ask at last--but really, the burning question was inevitable. 

Because it was kind of an insane amount of cereal.

“Special K, obviously--what are you, five? _Lucky Charms? Frosted Flakes??_ Are you in it for the box tops, or the _prize inside?_ And it’s all Dick. Dick loves cereal. _Loves it_ ,” Tim explained, gesturing helplessly at Dick with his coffee which sloshed dangerously in his hand. And, well, with good reason--because Dick was already shoveling cereal into his mouth with gusto, making strangely inappropriate noises that he didn’t even seem to be aware of.

“And what are you, a menopausal lady watching her weight? Special K, _Jesus fucking Christ_ … uh… Is he like this every morning?” Jason asked slowly, too taken aback by Dick’s unintentional performance to take too much offense to the comment directed at his cereals of choice.

“Welcome to my life,” Tim deadpanned, staring Jason down with a look that screamed _do you understand my daily hell now._

And if this was what Tim had had to sit through _every_ morning since they’re been adopted, well shit. Jason figured he’d have a complex, too.

A look of comradery was shared between the escort and Bruce Wayne 2.0, and they called a silent truce as they both did their best to tune out what could best be classed as a porn soundtrack occasionally interrupted with crunches.

“What kind of blend is that you’re drinking--Stumptown?” Jason asked suddenly, making Tim’s eyes snap back to him from where his gaze has been helplessly drawn to where Dick was happily fellating his spoon, and he blinked in surprise at the question.

“Uh, yeah, good nose,” Tim replied with more than a little admiration in his tone, reaching for a monstrous thermal carafe and sliding it over from his side to the older man, along with a mug plucked from an odd pyramid of assorted mugs. Jason reached to pull both toward him, unscrewing the top of the pitcher to look into it in confusion, lighting up when the heady scent of the aforementioned brew hit him full force.

“You have good taste,” Jason admitted grudgingly, happily indulging in a dangerously full cup, leaning in and blowing softly at the steaming surface before slurping quietly from the rim to try and lower the level to one that was safe to pick up. 

“I suppose you must as well, if you’re saying so,” Tim shrugged, as if it couldn’t be helped, making grabby hands at the carafe again until Jason rolled his eyes and pulled back to slide it back across the table to him.

The thermal carafe skimming it’s second trip across the table in front of his nose finally caught Dick’s attention, and he glanced owlishly between the two, spoon still stuck in his mouth.

“Tmm mst rrry rie oo, eh hs srhn s kwfe wi oo,” he observed, nodding sagely. 

“I said,” Dick repeated, in response to their deadpan stares, after finally pulling the spoon out of his mouth, not without licking at it one last time, “Tim must really like you, if he’s sharing his coffee with you. That stuff’s like liquid gold to him. Good for you. You passed,” he said fondly even as he reached over to ruffle Tim’s hair, tugging at a stubborn cowlick. Tim didn’t shy away from the touch, but the way he attempted to drown himself in his fourth cup spoke more loudly than any words could.

“I have to admit,” Jason murmured lowly as he leaned in towards Dick, who had returned to sucking unconsciously at his utensil, “I’m pretty jealous of that spoon you’re using. I mean, now that I _know_ the amazing things that mouth can do.”

“What a flatterer,” Dick grinned back coyly, blue eyes sparkling playfully. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were working to ensure a repeat performance some time.”

“So then I take it there wasn’t much talking going on last night?” Tim asked loudly, happy to let them know that their quiet voices weren’t quiet by any sense of the word. “Good to know you’re only talkative for _my_ benefit,” Tim snorted against the side of his mug, rolling his eyes.

Dick gave a small laugh. “Oh, there was _plenty_ of talking, Timbo. In fact, there was something you actually might be interested in--”

“I,” Tim started in a clear, stern tone eerily reminiscent of the oldest Wayne, “do _not_ want to hear about your pillow talk, Dick, so just stop right now.”

Jason smirked. “Be honest, Timmy, you _know_ you do. Your brother was _quite..._ informative,” he lilted, pausing for dramatic effect just to delight in seeing Tim stuck between blanching and blushing. “And he seems to think you’d be interested in a little, ah, venture we have decided to embark upon,” he finished.

“I _refuse_ to be part of a threesome, if that’s what you’re asking,” Tim said shortly.

Dick promptly choked on his cereal. Loudly.

Jason, on the other hand, cackled like a mad man. “As hot as that would be, baby, to watch you and Dick together and get in on the action myself, that’s not what this is,” he purred, succeeding in making both adoptees splutter. 

“Your perfect older brother here,” he nodded over to where Dick was pounding his chest, grimacing, “is going to become a working girl like me,” he finished, batting his eyelashes exaggeratedly at Tim. “And he seems to think _you’d_ be interested as well."

Tim swiveled in his seat from staring incredulously at Jason to gawking speechlessly at his older brother.

“Dick,” Tim asked slowly after a long moment, “Please tell me he’s kidding. That _you’re_ kidding. Just,” Tim pleaded, “just please _tell_ me that you’re not going to start selling your body. _You already sold it to GQ just last month._ ”

“He did?” Jason whistled. “Fuck. I’ve gotta get my hands on that.” 

“But _think_ about it, Timmy,” Dick needled, “ _you saw_ how much you and I sold for last night--hell, how much _the two of us, together,_ went for. Think about it,” Dick added on hastily before Tim could finish opening his mouth, “ _think about it_ with that fabulous little Wayne Brain. I know you have it, B’s been coddling it for years. Just stop and think about how much money we made, promising people even just our presence. Can you _imagine_ how much more they’d offer if they knew they could get a promise of even _more?_ ”

Tim, who’d patiently closed his mouth to wait until Dick was finished blabbering foolishness, opened it once more.

And closed it.

And then tilted his head and _hummed._

_**Thoughfully.** _

“If you take into consideration that we are each arguably the most eligible bachelor of our respective age bracket in Gotham,” Tim began murmuring, leaning forward and resting his chin on the palm of his hand, staring off into the distance, “and factor in the incredible favor for the Wayne family, exemplified in recent studies and polls, adding to that the already well-established Win-A-Date events that have proven to be one of if not our most successful charity event that has been going on for years now...” 

Jason and Dick stared at Tim as he trailed off into simply mouthing words, the fingers of his free hand scratching out invisible numbers and statistics on the tablecloth as he began to process the suggestion in earnest.

“You actually weren’t fucking with me about the mini-Wayne-genius thing, were you?” Jason asked at last, tearing his eyes away from where Tim had viciously knocked over a box of Lucky Charms and had started madly grouping together hearts, stars, and horseshoes, clovers and blue moons. 

“Nope,” Dick sighed, shaking his head slightly at his brother’s antics, his expression caught between brotherly affection and fond exasperation. 

“Ah, Masters Richard and Timothy. Master Jason,” Alfred greeted, stepping into the room with a slight flourish. “You’re awake. I admit, I had begun to wonder whether you’d be coming down for breakfast at all this morning. As it stands, it is nearly past any reasonable hour for lunch,” he hummed good-heartedly as he collected their dishes -- somehow managing to balance everything on a tray on one hand, much to Jason’s bewilderment.

He turned to Tim, arching a silver eyebrow at the pots of gold and rainbows, and the red balloons scattered over the table. “Honestly, Master Timothy,” he sighed, sweeping the marshmallow charms into his palm despite Tim’s plaintive whine, needing only to grace him with a stern look to quell any further complaints. “You are so much like your father at times, that quite frankly, it’s alarming.”

“I didn’t even think B _knew_ about me lucky charms,” Dick confided loudly to Jason, starling his date into a bout of raucous snickers. 

Alfred raised his eyes to the ceiling as if to ask “ _God help me_ ” before motioning towards the door he’d popped in from.

“Now out with all of you,” he shooed kindly. “Master Bruce should be returning from Wayne Enterprises any minute now with an entourage of prospective donors, and I shall be up to my elbows in potatoes if I don’t get started on the luncheon now.”

“I thought it wasn’t a reasonable hour for lunch anymore,” Tim reminded the elderly butler.

Jason could have sworn he saw the stoic man’s lips twitch in a smile at that, but he couldn’t be sure. 

“And again, I remind you that you boys take after your father _far too much._ He, too, is either blissfully unaware of, or too invested in the _idea_ of a _luncheon meeting_ to remember the _proper time_ for luncheon. I admit, I am far more convinced of the second opinion,” he responded in a grave tone, making both Wayne adoptees laugh--Jason couldn’t keep a smirk from his face either though, because _damn_ , the old man _did_ have a sense of humor after all and _shit,_ he was _funny._

“I’ll help you out with the potatoes, Alfred,” Tim offered softly, and, sure enough, this time Jason definitely caught the elderly man smile.

“That would certainly be most gracious of you, Master Timothy, and I would be delighted to have your company,” he replied with a slight nod, turning his attention to the other two men.

“I regret that I simply don’t have the time to drive you back myself, Master Jason,” Alfred apologized, and he actually _looked_ like he _sincerely meant it_ , much to Jason’s confusion. “But I took the initiative to call ahead for one of our chauffeurs--I expect that Master Richard will be seeing you home?” he questioned, looking at Dick pointedly, and nodding his approval when he was met with twins thumbs up and a bright “You got it, Alfie! Thanks a bunch!”

“I expect to see you back sometime tonight, Master Richard--preferably before dinner. You know how Master Bruce is after his meetings, not to mention _during_ them,” Alfred sighed, before his eyes softened the slightest bit as he turned his attention towards Jason, who felt himself immediately straighten self-consciously beneath the elderly man’s piercing blue gaze. 

“It was a pleasure to see you again, Master Jason,” Alfred said at last, offering another barely there but earnest smile. “I do look forward to seeing you around again. It was a delight to see Master Richard enjoying himself so at the gala last night.”

With that, Alfred nodded towards Tim, who waved at the two as he trailed along with Alfred towards the kitchen--but not without Jason noticing the way his eyes were drawn back to the two of them standing by the doorway just before he disappeared into the kitchen after the butler.

“Wait, whoa whoa whoa, hold up--did he just mouth _‘call me?’_ ” Jason spluttered. Dick laughed. 

“”Don’t get your hopes up,” he teased, nudging the taller man. “He just got his panties in a bunch wanting to talk more about business, but his pesky do-gooder people-pleaser senses got in the way. Now,” Dick drawled in a voice that immediately had Jason’s undivided attention. “ _About_ that limo.”

* * *

“Fuck--getting close,” Jason gasped, fingers curling tight into Dick’s hair to tug at him in warning. 

“I know,” Dick murmured lowly between licks and kisses against the heated flesh he was working expertly in his hands, flicking his tongue against the head before ducking back down to suck Jason’s cock back into his mouth.

“N-ngh, not what I _mean_ , _asshat,_ ” Jason whispered tightly, jerking a bit more roughly at the millionaire’s locks, making him pull off with a strangled sound, “to my fucking apartment. S’just ‘round the corner.”

“Oh,” Dick blinked, before smiling angelically. “Then I guess I’ll have to be quick about this if I wanna be a proper gent and walk you to your door.”

Which was how Jason found himself scrambling to clutch at the seat with trembling fingers as he braced one foot against the wall of the limo and the other against the AC controls on the floor, gritting his teeth against the litany of curses that Dick threatened to rip from his throat as he began sucking at him in earnest rather than teasing him to the slow orgasm he’d been building up since they’d thrown themselves in the back.

“Shit, _shitshitshit_ , fucking _fuck_ \--Dick,” Jason choked out at last, squeezing his eyes tightly shut as Dick hummed and did _something_ with his tongue that had Jason shuddering through the entirety of his climax, biting at the back of one hand to muffle his shout while gripping Dick’s hair tight in the other.

“ _Jason,_ ” Dick moaned softly, voice cracking and making Jason open his suddenly heavy eyes to look at him, groaning quietly when he looked down just in time to see the acrobat arch gorgeously as he came into his own hand with a shiver that racked his whole body.

“Jesus, I’d pay just to see you _cum,_ let alone _make_ you cum myself,” Jason purred, delighting in the way Dick’s spent cock twitched weakly at the suggestion, even as Dick struggled to put himself back into place one handedly, his other hand groping to find the tissue box that they’d knocked under the seat much earlier into the ride.

“Well we’ll just see how this enterprise goes, then,” Dick grinned breathlessly, shoving the tissues at Jason as the car rolled to a slow stop--kicking both into gear so that they were pulling themselves back together madly, cleaning up in an impressive ten seconds.

Which was just in the nick of time, because there came a polite knock on the window between the front and back, as well as the helpful “we’ve arrived, Mister Grayson.”

“Please,” Dick said impressively, opening the door and flourishing a hand for Jason to take, smiling so widely it looked like his face might break, “allow me the pleasure of seeing you to your door.”

“Oh, Mister Grayson,” Jason replied in the best falesto he could muster, batting his lashes at the other man as he grabbed his hand, snickering at the face Dick made when he shoved their used tissues into his grasp as he lifted himself as daintily as he could, “I’d be _delighted_.”

Dick just rolled his eyes helplessly, unable to shake his smile at the other man’s antics as he followed leisurely after the escort, pausing at the doorstep to bend back and stare up at the grimy apartment building. He linked his fingers casually together behind his back as he rocked on his heels, waiting patiently for Jason to fish his keys from their hiding place at the bottom of his bag, mildly impressed by the colorful slew of swears Jason threw at the keys when he ultimately had to place his bag on the ground and kneel to find them. 

One screeching clang of a kicked-in rusty gate, three flights of creaking stairs and one particularly stubborn (and ultimately broken) front lock later, and the two found themselves once more in Jason’s apartment.

“I’d offer you a drink or somethin’,” Jason said as he tossed his bag onto the coffee table before turning to Dick, scratching his neck and smirking wrly, “but I’d just be _embarrassing __myself, now that I know the goods you got to offer, after partying with those rich and fabulous winos last night.”_

“As much as I’d still _kill_ for one of those espressos right now,” Dick laughed regretfully, “I actually better head back ASAP, if Bruce’s bringing over a bunch of potential investors.” He shook his head goodnaturedly. B’s a helluva charmer, but he can put his foot in his mouth like nobody’s business sometimes if he doesn’t have me or Timmy around to give facial cues about _‘social niceties,’_ ” he said in a sugar sweet voice, air quotes included.

“Somehow, I’m not surprised,” Jason scoffed as he threw himself down on the couch, reaching for his bag and unzipping it to carefully remove the folded suit, hanger, garment bag and all and holding it out for Dick. 

“And take this before I steal it, your ponciness,” Jason said fondly. “This is like over a thousand bucks in a bag, I can’t fucking keep this. It wouldn’t go with my repertoire, now what the fuck’sa matter?” Jason ended with a frown, staring warily at Dick who was shaking his head. 

“That was tailor-made for _you,_ Jay, and it’s a present from me,” Dick replied and Jason felt his blood start to burn, because he was _not_ a fucking _charity case._

Luckily for him, Dick seemed to catch onto Jason’s train of thought, and he frantically waved his hands at the stormy scowl that was forming on the escort’s face, as if he could shove it back off. 

“No, seriously,” Dick added on earnestly. “Think of it as payment if it makes you sleep better, but at the end of the day, you, I mean, yesterday was,” Dick trailed off as he began to stammer, smiling at Jason’s raised brows and gesturing helplessly.

“I can’t even begin to tell you how much you turned my night around from what it was destined to be,” Dick explained, eyes frantically searching Jason’s as if to make sure his message was getting fully across. 

“It woulda just been another night, at another gala, with another group of phony characters, and me and Tim getting sold off to spend the evening with a buncha creeps. I haven’t had fun at a gala like that since, _God,_ I don’t remember when,” Dick sighed, shaking his head and smiling warmly at Jason in thanks, before the expression turned mischievous.

“Though I have to say,” Dick lilted, as he began to amble back towards the door, “I’m really looking quite forward to figuring out more about this enterprise of ours in the near future.” He paused at the door to glance over his shoulder, smiling innocently. “Maybe you can even teach me a thing or do about your, techniques. Maybe get some _practise_ in.”

Jason wasn’t sure how it’d happened, but suddenly he’d vaulted over from his place gawking from the couch to shoving Dick’s back against the door as he pulled him in for a demanding kiss, tongue exploring the hot, moist cavern of Dick’s mouth one last time before shoving the dazedly laughing acrobat out the door, snapping a goodbye at him, that somehow involved “exotic dance moves” and the threat to get out before “I throw you down again right here and keep you long enough to unintentionally sound some silent alarm that calls in your daddy’s private SWAT team for recon.” 

Jason watched until Dick had sauntered down the first set of stairs and closed his front door loudly in response to Dick’s over exaggerated blown kisses back up to him, frowning when the door slowly squeaked back open--because oh yeah, he’d broke the damn lock again to get in.

Fuck. He was really going to find some new digs; the crap he put up with here just wasn’t worth dealing with anymore.

After lazily kicking a footstool over to press against the door in a makeshift blockade for the time being, he found himself drawn over to the window, unbidden. He watched as Dick walked out to the limo--but not without throwing one last glance up to Jason’s apartment, visibly brightening even from all the way up here when he saw the escort staring back at him, and waving happily before sliding into the backseat. Jason watched until he’d slid in and the car pulled all the way out of view, before glancing around aimlessly.

Because honestly? What the hell was he supposed to do now?

It wasn’t like he was in desperate need of funds right now. He didn’t have to worry about rent for another few weeks, and he _had_ food for at least a couple of days--surprisingly homemade, delicious food. He didn’t even have to _clean_ his already spotless apartment, which he only really ever got around to when he usually was at a loss to do. Kind of like now. 

“Fuck,” Jason said, just because he could, deciding to unpack his bag in a spur of the moment attempt to shake himself out of the stupor he felt himself starting to fall into.

After all, he’d been practically fueled by adrenaline all of yesterday, and then he’d been up practically all night -- not that he was complaining, because _oh, what a night._

So he’d unpack, and then it was naptime, Jason decided a little gleefully, because shit, he never had time for naps anymore. 

He grabbed the garment bag and then snatched up his overnight bag before wandering into his room, tossing the bag onto the bed before carefully hanging up the garment bag on the hook on the inside of the door where he usually pulled out and hung his outfits.

“Look at you, you get your own section, isn’t that exciting?” Jason asked the suit in a sweet voice. “Because I ain’t got much of a selection when it comes to evening wear--my three sections usually just include hand-me-downs, skanky, and super skanky.” 

Jason started to close the door but paused, biting the corner of his lip and opening it again, grazing his fingers down the material of the garment bag briefly before unzipping the protective cover to stare at his new possession, still having trouble processing that this was really his.

“Damn,” he muttered, sliding his hand down the front of the jacket--his brows knitting together when he felt a slight lump.

“What the…” he mumbled, poking and prodding at the bulge, thinking the fabric had just bunched up--but no, there was definitely something there.

He patted down the front breast pocket and, finding it empty, he slid his hand into the jacket to slip into the inside coat pocket -- this time, his fingers did curl around something.

Jason arched an eyebrow--because shit, he hadn’t thought he’d been that drunk last night, and _fuck,_ he thought, exhaling angrily through his nose as he pulled the mystery lump back, but _wouldn’t it just be like drunk Jason_ to think himself clever enough to sneak home some fancy _hors d'oeuvres_ that probably _stained_ and--

Jason’s breath stopped as he found himself staring dumbfoundedly down at a roll of hundred dollar bills, wrapped together neatly and held together with a paper tie that had fucking hearts doodled around a messily scrawled _”thanks for yesterday, Jay, talk to you soon ;D -Dick.”_

 _“Fuck. Me,”_ Jason muttered numbly as he stumbled back to sit down heavily on his bed, because it was _one thing_ to hand off a blank check with your name on it--but it was another thing entirely to hold what appeared to be his fee for his time.

So Jason did the responsible thing and whooped as he did a little dance and _fucking made it rain_ before promptly falling face first into the piles of cash and passing out with his face mashed into a second man’s. 

He wasn’t complaining though. Who would, when it was fucking Benjamin Franklin?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well Jason and Dick are happily diving headlong into everything together now, and are convinced that their prospective enterprise will be nothing short of an earth shattering success. Then again, with a reaction like that from Tim, monopolizer and world business dominator in training, they’ve got good reason to be. What they don’t know, yet, is that as much as they’re hyping themselves up to shock, scandalize and tempt the appetite of Gotham’s wealthiest, they’re in for a few more surprises themselves.
> 
> Also!
> 
>  **Here are Jason’s nipple shields:** http://i01.i.aliimg.com/wsphoto/v0/1079491163/Wholesale-6pcs-lot-Cobweb-Spider-Web-Style-font-b-Nipple-b-font-font-b-Shields-b.jpg
> 
>  **Here are his hip piercings:** https://encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTkdMne_CRHEXlGbdias2EL5jQPtdMS7hdJxTvJpnt9L6B1SZrJ
> 
>  **And here’s his ampallang** : http://www.bodyjewelleryshop.com/img/products/titanium_barbells_xtb_3.jpg
> 
>  **Also, this is the coffee mug Tim was drinking out of**. It is only one of many of Tim’s enormous mug collection, and he is in somewhat reluctant possession of it because Dick bought it for him, having found it freaking hilarious and startlingly accurate and Tim can’t bear to throw any of Dick’s gifts away: http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cJqn02_uKjI/UbILdeW-PNI/AAAAAAAAEME/gFUIVaEVY-w/s1600/Pinterest.jpg *
> 
> ((*Bruce has a matching one in pink. Dick doesn’t know that Bruce didn’t actually throw it out--it’s currently sitting on his desk serving a noble existence of his favorite pen holder in his home office))
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the update, you lovely people! I did my best to serve up another chapter real quick (life is actively trying to kick our butts, which--not fair, I don’t even--what did _we_ do to it), so do I hope it was jam packed with enough Halloween goodies. Also, the lovely samuraiflo actually has something super exciting coming up, so look forward to it!! I know _I_ can barely wait~


	5. Show Me the Money Honey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick finally finds them a client. Jason finds himself not as happy about this as he'd expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, quick note here, more at the end if you feel like reading them.
> 
> We're changing one of Jason's piercings. Just go with it. He now has an apadravya instead of an ampallang. Same place, different piercing direction. In the words of thoughtlessdreamer: "After very serious deliberation, we decided that as a proud sex worker, Jason would indulge in piercings that would benefit the masses. So we changed up his piercing. That is all. You're welcome America." 
> 
> I only read through this once and I know there are probably still mistakes, but I wanted to post so badly, so please forgive me!

"Oh god..."

"Yeah, you like--"

"Yeah, shit, yes I do, right there. Oh f-fu..."

"You're so tight, Jay."

"I...can't help it. God, Dickie, your _hands_."

Dick chuckled softly and nuzzled against the back of Jason's neck. "You could have asked for a massage earlier, you know. _Before_ you slept on a sore neck and made it worse, especially after that last position...”

Jason turned his head slightly, resting his cheek against the cool sheet as he grinned lazily over his shoulder at Dick. “If I recall, you were the one bent almost in half Mr. I-can-exist-in-inhuman-positions. And you _liked_ it, don’t even lie.” Jason’s grin turned knowing as Dick tilted his head and...well, beamed wouldn’t be quite the right word for it, but it was pretty close to the mark.

“I never said I didn’t, Jay. I just said maybe you shouldn’t have fallen asleep in such a weird position.” As he spoke, he moved from his position straddling Jason’s hip and lay down on the bed next to him, wriggling closer and pulling Jason’s arm to drape across him as he settled in close, breathing in Jason’s exhaled air and closing his eyes.

Jason grumbled a bit but didn’t move except enough to pull Dick closer. That was partially his mistake before--they had finished round...three, Jason thought, but maybe it was technically only two--and Dick had curled up next to him, moving to perfectly mirror Jason’s positioning and molding his body to the younger’s as he sighed and began to fall asleep, contentedly murmuring soft words to his lover as he drifted off. Jason laid there for a while both in awe and jealous of Dick’s ability to become so comfortable so quickly.

Jason was still adjusting to sleeping in the same person’s bed for more than one night and Dick had already adjusted to him enough to be able to fall asleep on him minutes after they’d finished going at it like their lives depended on it. It was admirable in a way, Jason thought, but also so foreign to him. For as long as he could remember whenever he had slept with someone--just sleeping in the same space, regardless of any other activity that had gone on--it had been an uneasy, broken, disconnected sleep filled with a constant need to check on his surroundings and make sure he was still _able_ to wake up. After waking up once faced with a knife, he wasn’t about to make the same mistake again. No matter who he’d been with, sleeping had never been peaceful by another person’s side. 

Until he’d met Dick. 

It wasn’t like he’d cured Jason overnight, as it was. But that first night that he’d spent with Dick, he’d slept so well that he hadn’t woken up to leave as he’d planned. Jason remembered a small snippet of...something. Nothing definite, just a feeling of warmth and comfort and _right_ before he rolled back over and had slept again. He hadn’t felt that same sense of flight that normally kept him up at night. He’d felt more rested, more satisfied the next morning than he could remember feeling after any romantic encounter. It’d hadn’t necessarily felt right to wake up in bed with Dick, but it hadn’t felt _wrong_ either. And, well, the delicious way Dick woke him up hadn’t hurt at all.

In the present, Jason smiled slightly at that and mentally shook his head as Dick kissed the inside of his wrist.

“You’re so comfortable, Jay,” the man murmured as they lay there in companionable silence for a few minutes.

Jason sighed and flexed the arm Dick was laying on, trying to regain feeling in his fingers. “You’re heavy, you know that?”

Dick frowned. Jason couldn’t so much see it as he could _feel_ it as the muscles pulled from the permanently relaxed grin on the man’s face to something harder. There was a moment of flopping as Dick turned to face him, leaning onto one elbow as he situated himself on his side, and Jason took the opportunity to lay flat on his (much more relaxed) back.

“Are you calling me fat, Jason?” DIck asked petulantly, drawing his face into an exaggerated pout as he looked down with a look of mock horror.

“No, not necessarily. I’m just sayin’ that maybe you had a bit too much at dinner last night with Mr. I-over-compensate-with-my-car. And that’s why you’re cutting off the circulation in my arm right now.” He wiggled his fingers for good measure even though they hadn’t been laying in that position nearly long enough for the blood supply to stop flowing to his fingers. He was being bitchy and he knew it, but the comment had just slipped out and now he couldn’t take it back.

The night before, they’d gone out with some of their new clients. That’s right-- _their clients_. After the discussion a few weeks ago about how profitable an endeavor on their part could be, Jason hadn’t been able to get it out of his head. Dick hadn’t _let_ him get it out of his head. They went out a lot that first week--and stayed in even more often--and Dick kept asking small things about logistics, like how would people get in contact with them if they wanted to arrange some kind of a date, and how much could they charge, and how far did people usually expect to go if they hired someone out for the night. And how could they make it very clear that Dick didn’t want to do that with anyone but Jason (and he made that part _very_ clear by going down on him _multiple_ times a night) but he’d be willing to act as arm candy as either a male or a female.

As a whole, Jason thought Dick was still kidding. Take Gotham’s golden boy and rent him out for the night and _not_ expect people to want more from him? Yeah, that’d work about as well as giving a new toy to a kid and telling them they couldn’t open it, they could only carry it around without disturbing the packaging. The very pretty, very _tempting_ packaging. So he’d written it off and kept indulging Dick’s questions like he would have a small child asking about something they didn’t understand.

And then Dick told Jason he’d found them a client.

They’d been in the middle of dinner--take out that had gone cold while they had showered, eaten straight out of the containers as they lounged on Jason’s bed with the heady smell of sex still pervading the air but dissipating quickly out the open window to be replaced by the heavy scent of exhaust and desperation constantly hanging over his neighborhood--and Dick had said it like it was a continuation of some earlier discussion they’d been having.

“Oh yeah, I found a client for us.”

What. The. Fuck.

That may or may not have come out of Jason’s mouth as Dick continued picking at the food in his designated container, and he was willing to bet it had because Dick had quirked an eyebrow and looked at Jason like he was _missing_ something. So he’d set his container aside and explained in a cautious tone using small words.

He--well, she at the time--had been talking with one of the disgustingly rich snobs (Jason’s words, not Dick’s) at the Wayne event ze’d had to attend the night before and the man had asked if Dick would be interested in coming with him to another event later that week. And maybe did Dick have a friend that could go with his friend? A double date of sorts. (Jason laughed at the look of hope he imagined to be on the poor bastard’s face as he asked for a _date_.) And Dick had agreed.

He’d agreed.

“C’mon, Jay, it won’t be that bad. It’s just a small party, something to get our feet wet. It could be really fun. And he said he’d pay us. Well.” Dick named a figure that was about the going rate for a full night of work on his knees in Jason’s experience. It was tempting.

“I’ll let you keep it, too. It wasn’t really my idea in the first place and I don’t--’

“Dear god, don’t say you don’t need it, because I swear I will punch your fuckin’ perfect face, Dickie. I’ll do it. I don’t need to be another of your charity cases.”

Dick swallowed down whatever he was about to say and had leveled Jason with a serious look. “You aren’t a charity case for me, Jason. No, don’t you _dare_ pull that. Look at me when I’m saying this.”

Reluctantly, Jason turned back to him, staring with a bored expression as Dick had set himself up for what was sure to be a full on ramble. And he didn’t disappoint.

“I was _going_ to say you can keep it and we can find a place together. One that’s ours. Where we can eat and sleep and mess around. Not any time soon, mind you. And there doesn’t have to be a commitment on your part, nothing drastic. I’m not asking you for life, Jason. I can tell you aren’t cut out for that.” Here Dick had smiled almost ruefully, plowing over Jason’s protesting words. “I can sense it in you, the need to wander and move around, not to be tied to one specific place or person for too long. But I can also tell that you _need_ a family. Some kind of base of people that love and care for you. That’s what I’m offering, with the occasional bout of sex in there for good measure.”

Dick’s grin here had been shit-eating as Jason kind of gaped at him, both surprised at the insight and shocked as the offer took root in his brain and started to grow.

“I’m proposing we find a place and make a headquarters out of it. Start a website or a blog or something and spread the word about what we’re doing. It wouldn’t be that hard, people are always looking for dates in Gotham. We could pick and choose who we wanted to serve and exactly _how_ we wanted to serve them. There’d be more freedom in it for you, and you could leave any time you wanted. As much as I want to keep you, Jay, I know what it feels like to be caged in. It’s suffocating and horrible.”

Dick had now been sitting almost directly in front of Jason, food forgotten on both their parts as Dick looked at his younger lover seriously, taking both his hands into his own and rubbing small circles against his pulse points with his thumbs slowly. Jason’s heart raced for the almost absent minded contact and he tried to stay focused on Dick’s words and not his actions. 

“But even before all of that, I’m suggesting that we try it out. Go to this party with this guy and his friend, see how it all goes. See if we can even swing it. If we hate it, we don’t have to do it. If _you_ hate it, you don’t have to do it. That’s all I’m asking for--one night.”

Cautiously, Jason had licked his lips to speak, voice slightly hesitant. He’d been promised a great many things by many different people, but this was most definitely one of the biggest and something that he could honestly say that he really wanted. He wanted family and a home and people who cared about him for reasons other than the money he could bring in. With Dick, he felt like it could be possible over time. “One night. And you’ll be there.”

Dick had nodded, a smile starting to take shape on his lips. Jason kept his mouth a hard line.

“And that’s it for now. Nothing about moving in together or anything. I still don’t know that you aren’t going to kill me and wear my skin as a dress to your prom.”

“Do I look like I’m in high school, Jay?”

“That’s beside the point! Don't change the subject. I’m promising one night and that’s it. We’ll try it out, see how it goes. Maybe I’ll decide that I want to stick around, maybe I won’t. I don’t know about that yet.”

Dick’s smile blossomed into something large and beautiful that lit up his face like the rising sun. “Sure, Jason. Whatever you say.”

“Stop looking so smug, you...dick.”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” Dick pressed a gentle kiss against Jason’s temple and began to work lower over his face, effectively distracting the man from any more conversation.

“No, I mean you’re..oh. Oh that’s...I mean, alright, if you really--nnh.”

Dick grinned up at Jason from hip level, smile both taunting and smug.

“You were talking about being a dick?” He queried, rubbing his thumb into the head of Jason’s slowly, spreading the small bead of precum over the tip.

“Being one, not sucking one. Though if you want to demonstrate, I’m not going to stop you.” Jason shot him back a cocky grin and settled against the pillows behind him, trying to put the conversation out of his mind for the time being. While Dick’s mouth did a _very_ good job of doing that rather quickly, his heart had still taken one last leap into his throat at the life Dick had offered.

Later that week, they’d gone to the party as planned. Jason hadn’t had a _horrible_ time. He’d definitely had worse nights. But he’d also had better. Dick had picked out a dress for him (apparently he had a rather large supply) and then he’d made Jason over “from head to hem, just like on TV.” When the older man had finished with him, Jason barely recognized himself as the woman staring back at him in the mirror. He’d looked damn good, if he did say so himself.

Dick had looked better, of course. He always did, even as a woman. It was amazing the things he did to make himself--herself--look more feminine. Jason had watched the entire process and _he_ still had no idea how Dick had done it. After the transformation was complete, Jason found himself staring at a gorgeous woman in a dress that he would have loved to peel off her. He said as much and he and Dick proceeded to mess up their lipstick a bit as they giggled and made out, Dick breathlessly promising to let Jason take him out of it later as long as he didn’t mess up the perfect hairstyle he’d done, and that had worked just fine for him.

The party was really nothing to brag about--smaller than the previous Wayne event Jason had attended, but with a reasonable bar and a halfway decent band. Jason had found himself dateless after about a half an hour as Simon or Theodore or whatever his date’s name was had left with his “best friend since high school, Trish” to find some punch and hadn’t come back. Which was fine by Jason, honestly. The dude _reeked_ of bad breakup, and he suspected the friend that Dick was entertaining had set up his buddy to help him get over someone. 

So Jason spent the majority of the party getting pleasantly buzzed on cheap beer in expensive glasses while watching rich people make poor conversation with each other. In actuality, most of the time he found his eyes glued to Dick as ze danced and talked and worked the room like a pro. Jason was in awe of the ease with which Dick had attracted the attention of almost anyone around and had held it, saying all the right things, laughing when everyone else did, and in general making it seem like the party was actually a good time.

As they drove back home later that night, tucked safely into the back of a towncar Dick had arranged to pick them up, Dick had sunk into the plush back seat and sighed happily about _finally_ going home. Dick had put on a wonderful performance and had made everyone there--including Jason--believe that he’d actually had a good time. But as he whispered huskily into Jason’s ear that he couldn’t wait to get back to his place so they could have some _real_ fun, Jason saw the facade fall apart.

Jason had made up his mind right then that they could succeed. Dick was a natural.

Of course, he hadn’t told Dick that until hours later, after the man had kept asking and pestering him about it. Jason had taken his sweet time answering and he’d enjoyed Dick’s way of bribing him. Jason hadn’t been rimmed that well in _years_ , so excuse him for enjoying it a little bit and holding out.

That had been four nights ago, and last night they’d had their second client. Same sort of situation--some friend of that first guy called and asked if they’d be available to accompany him and a buddy to some fancy shindig they were attending. Jason had let Dick dress him up again, but he insisted on doing his own makeup this time. He’d done it before (sorta) and he figured if this was going to become a Thing then he needed to be able to do it on his own.

It hadn’t turned out quite as spectacular as when Dick had done it (“It’s alright, Jay, I used to watch tons of makeover shows as a kid. You’ll get there, don’t worry.”) but Jason was still happy with the result. Until Mr. I-have-a-big-car-look-at-me had shown up.

Alone.

Apparently his friend couldn’t make it, was sick or something like that. He’d taken one look at the both of them and then decided that he wanted to take Diana (Dick’s alias for the night) with him for the night. Jason hadn’t liked the way the guy eyed her, had seen that look too many times when it was directed at him and knew what came after it. He’d plastered on his fakest smile and taken a chance, rubbed up against the slug and tried to convince him that he wanted “me instead, big boy. I’ll do things my friend over here won’t,” but he hadn’t even taken his eyes off of Dick’s ass.

Jason waited while they talked logistics and then pulled Dick back as the John had walked back to his car, expecting his date to follow.

“You don’t have to do this, Dickie. It smells fishy to me.” Jason couldn’t keep the worry out of his tone and Dick’s face had softened at it, pulling one corner of hir red lips up into a fond smile.

“I know, Jay. But it’ll actually be useful. I didn’t realize this until he showed up, but this guy’s part of a company Bruce has been investigating for black market dealings. I’ll try and get some info out of him and if he tries anything...well, let’s just say that I don’t care about this dress enough _not_ to rip it as I defend myself.”

Ze’d smiled and kissed Jason’s forehead gently and then walked off as gracefully as a runway model.

That whole night Jason couldn’t stop from worrying about Dick. Had the creep tried something? Was he in trouble? Should he have fought more to keep Dick at home instead of letting him go? Was 11:30 too early to start panicking and calling the phone Dick had taken with him?

Jason had stayed at the manor because he knew that was where Dick would come back to. He’d sat rigid all night when he wasn’t pacing, waiting for the other to call or show up. He’d been ready to pick up the phone and call his cell when Dick had come walking through the door like there was nothing wrong at all.

“Hey,” Dick said as he’d taken off the wig and placed it gently on the chair by the door. “You’re still here.” He sounded both relieved and tired at the same time, like he was glad Jason was there but he’d had a really long night and just wanted to sleep.

Jason’s first instinct was to chew Dick out for going into a situation that he really shouldn’t have, but the way he was looking at him--like Dick enjoyed coming home to him, like he was the best thing to happen to him all night--stopped him in his tracks. Cautiously, he climbed off the bed and walked over towards him. “How was it?” he intoned, voice low and even as if he were talking to a frightened animal. 

Dick had shrugged, working himself out of all the fancy jewelry quickly and efficiently. Jason followed awkwardly as Dick walked into the bathroom in his dress, heels discarded by the door, and started washing all the makeup away. As he leaned casually against the door frame, dressed in Dick’s workout pants and a shirt a size too small, he felt like he should say something, anything to break the silence, but...what was there to say?

_I’m glad you’re back safely?_

_Did he touch you?_

_Did you want him to?_

_Did he hurt you?_

_Did you hurt him?_

_Do you want me to leave?_

Jason bit his lip to hold all of that back because if he started talking he’d start babbling about how glad he was that Dick was back and he might not be able to stop for a while. When he was done, Dick stood up and dried off his face then walked over to Jason.

Dropping his voice, the older of them had smiled and pressed their foreheads together. “You want to help me get undressed?”

Jason shivered slightly at that, closed his eyes and swallowed before shaking his head and standing up to meet Dick’s height. “Not really,” he mumbled softly, not able to meet Dick’s eyes as he felt the slight burn of a blush across his cheeks, just enough that he knew it would show, as he spoke the lie. He’d been worried about Dick, knew what could happen when someone thought they were entitled to use you as they pleased and when they got angry if you didn’t let them “get what they paid for." It might've been stupid but he wanted to make sure the other man was perfectly alright before he did anything.

He did care, he just...wasn’t ready to say that yet. 

Dick quirked an eyebrow, surprised and concerned at the same time.

“I...alright. Do you...want to talk? Did something happen? Should I have…did you want to go?” He stepped back to put some space between them and leaned back to sit on the sink behind him.

Jason almost laughed at the absurdity of Dick asking him that while still in a dress in his giant bathroom. Almost.

“I...you thought I wanted to go with him?” Jason scrunched up his nose and _looked_ at Dick, something between a glare and confused anger. “Why the hell would you think that?”

“You gave me this… _look_ as I was leaving. Like you were pissed or something.”

“Of fucking course I was pissed!” Jason snapped, fisting one hand by his side. “You actually _went_ with the guy even though there were warning bells going off left and right!”

“I can handle myself--” Dick interjected, but Jason had plowed right over him.

“That’s beside the point, Dick! What if--”

“You were worried,” Dick grinned, advancing on Jason slowly, forcing him back into the main bedroom to avoid being cornered.

“No,” he snapped, circling around Dick as they reached the open area between the bed and the bathroom. “I wasn’t...worried.”

“Oh?” Dick arched an eyebrow and moved gracefully in counterpoint to Jason, the long skirt of his dress not even a hindrance.

“Of course not. Why would I be worried about your sorry ass, no matter how good it is?”

Dick beamed and advanced a step closer, forcing Jason to take another one backwards to keep some distance between them. “You _do_ like my ass, don’t you? Is that what you were worried about?”

Jason bit his tongue, realizing slowly that this wasn’t going anyway close to how he had expected. “What if he’d...he’d...made improper advances?” Jason felt his face flame again. Of all the phrases…

Dick laughed, stopping their circling to stand in front of his bed and look at Jason. “Improper advances? Are you worried about my _virtue_ Jason? That’s almost sweet of you, seeing as you like to _soil_ it most every night. But sure, let’s go with that--what if he did made an advance on me? Go ahead.” He spread his arms out and stood there staring at a very confused Jason. “Make an advance. An _improper_ one.”

Jason blinked a few times, shifting his weight to the other foot in the plush carpeting. “You want me to…”

“Attack me, yes. Go ahead. I promise to be gentle.” Dick’s eyes sparkled with challenge and Jason took the bait.

He sprang forward, lunging for Dick’s face, fighting more based on instinct than anything else. There was a part of him that wanted to _hurt_ Dick, show him what kind of things could happen to him if he was pulled up by the wrong hands (“No, stop I don’t--” “Shut up, kid, and open that pretty fuckin mouth of yours before I--”) and how stupid it was of him to go off without someone there to back him up (“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, I’m sorry I couldn’t help, I’m sor--”). He wanted to inflict on him even an ounce of the pain he’d felt while sitting there waiting for him to come back, wondering what was happening and if he was okay. He lashed out with reflexes he hadn’t had to use to defend himself in a while but which still came just as easily as breathing, allowed his fist to fly forward and connect--

No, miss Dick’s jaw. In the time span it’d taken him to take the step and a quarter to lunge at the man, he’d moved just enough to miss the strike. Jason swung again, snarling and giving over to his instincts, moving this time towards where Dick would be if he tried to dodge the punch, but it missed again. Instead, Dick’s hand closed hard around his wrist, Jason felt a pressure at his ankles, and the next things he knew he was face down on the bed with Dick’s hand pinning his arm behind his back as he squirmed and tried to buck off the pressure. Dick’s legs moved to bracket his own, containing his twitching kicks.

“Still think I can’t handle myself, Jay?” The grin was evident in the man’s voice and Jason struggled harder just to spite him.

“You were expecting it!” Jason ground out as Dick twisted his arm up higher, pain shooting through his shoulder and upper arm. 

“No, what I was expecting was for you to keep _talking_ not to lash out at me like a street fighter.” 

Jason could feel the man’s eyes on him as he made a thoughtful humming sound and leaned down closer. Jason turned his head and pressed his other cheek to the cool blanket to avoid Dick’s probing gaze.

“What happened, Jay?” Dick’s voice was soft and infinitely gentle as he spoke close to his ear. “You were worried. I can tell. Tell me what happened.” Dick’s finger stroked softly against Jason’s pulse point in his wrist as he pressed a soft kiss against Jason’s temple. “It wasn’t something that happened tonight because he wasn’t _that_ much of a creep. So what is it?”

Jason sighed, stilling in Dick’s hands as the observation hit closer to home than he was comfortable with. Something _had_ happened. Ages ago. But he wasn’t going to talk about it.

“I grew up on the streets, Dick. Shit happens. You learn things,” he replied, voice even and devoid of any feeling. Empty like he’d felt at the time.

Dick eased his hold on Jason’s arm and moved to turn him onto his back before straddling his waist again, dress hiked up to pool in his lap. He gazed down at Jason like he was a hurt puppy someone had left on his doorstep and was _determined_ to fix. When he reached out one hand to cup Jason cheek, the man jerked away.

“No, don’t give me those eyes, Dick. You can’t fix everything.” This time, when Dick reached out cautiously to touch Jason’s cheek, he didn’t flinch away. He closed his eyes and imagined how nice this would have felt after--after everything. “I should know...I tried,” he whispered, keeping his eyes closed as Dick’s fingers moved slowly, tracing the planes of his face cautiously.

“Oh Jason,” Dick breathed, and Jason’s eyes fluttered open at the soft breath against his lips. Dick’s face was close, all bright blue eyes filled with earnest concern and soft lips close enough to tempt him. “I’m sorry. Whatever it was, I’m sorry.”

Jason mentally shrugged it off, just like he had any other time someone had tried to comfort him about it, but he still appreciated the words. Dick, unlike so many other people in his life, didn’t _have_ to say them. “Don’t. It was a long time ago and there’s nothing you can do. Just...look, Dickie, I promised myself nothing would ever happen to anyone as long as I could help it, okay? I was worried about you, so sue me. Or, you know, don’t cuz I’m broke as fuck.”

That earned a slight smile from the man above him and Jason leaned up to close the gap between their mouths. The high from the short adrenaline rush from before had worn off and Dick was sitting _perfectly_ on his lap. Jason had needs, damn it, and he wanted them taken care of. Preferably sooner rather than later.

Dick opened to him immediately, lips parting to allow Jason’s tongue to slide in against his own, submitting but giving back as much as he could, swallowing Jason’s soft noises and responding in kind. Jason’s hands moved from Dick’s hair to rest on his shoulders, thumbs slowly stroking at his jumping pulse, massaging lightly so Dick knew that Jason could feel how hard his heart was racing for this. Dick’s hands moved into Jason’s hair, sliding and pulling and messing up his already disheveled post-wig hair.

When Dick pulled back a bit to suck in air, Jason smiled almost proudly up at him, loving the way Dick’s lips already looked used and swollen. Dick’s answering grin made his internal organs do a weird sort of squirming thing where they all tried to jump ship at once, but Jason found it wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. He slid his hands down from Dick’s shoulders to his elbows and then jumped to his sides to stroke down the fine material of the dress to rest on the widest part of his hips.

“You look good from this angle, Dickie,” Jason grinned, squeezing the man’s hips gently as he rocked up just slightly. Dick gasped, biting his lip as he looked down, and Jason’s answering grin was _wicked_. As his eyes started to blow wider, Dick rocked his hips down against the slowly forming bulge in Jason’s pants, setting a slow rhythm that had them both panting softly before long.

“Really, Jay, you want to--” Dick’s half-moaned question cut off suddenly as Jason rolled his hips up and pulled DIck down against him.

“Yeah, well, I _missed_ you,” Jason teased, thumbs stroking along the soft jut of the elder’s hipbones through the dress that was steadily hiking its way further up Dick’s thighs. 

“That much?” Dick laughed, looking pointedly down at the tent forming in Jason’s sweatpants that was being pushed between Dick’s thighs.

“Nhh...no,” Jason bit out as Dick shifted to rest more fully on top of him, raising an eyebrow and grinning down at him. “Alright, maybe a little. But you sat on me in this dress. It’s probably...mostly that.”

Dick slid a hand along the waistband of the pants until his fingertips met the skin right below his partner’s belly button. He started drawing small circles there with the tip of his finger as he watched Jason’s body arch into the touch. 

“I missed you too, Jay,” he whispered as he leaned down and rested their foreheads together. He could feel the small pants of exhaled breath as Jason made them, and their breathing fell into sync as Dick held himself there.

“Shut up and--’

“Say it back, Jason. C’mon, it’s not that hard.” Dick smirked as he ground down against his hips, delighting at the strangled-sounding moan it drew from the chest beneath him. Dick’s long fingers worked their way slowly from Jason’s temple and back through his hair, stroking along the silken strands as he kept the pressure of his hips just this side of enough to satisfy either of them. Dick had no plans for going fast tonight--he was prepared to wait as long as he had to to make sure that he made Jason feel as good as possible. 

“ _I’m_ that hard, Dick, damn it!” he huffed in frustration as Dick’s body moved with the roll of his hips, preventing him from gaining any more contact than the socialite was already giving him.

“I want to hear you say it,” Dick murmured, kissing a quick trail over to Jason’s ear before settling there to whisper into it, each word a hot puff of breath against his sensitive skin. “Then I’ll let you peel me out of this dress before I take you for a ride like I was imagining all night.”

Jason’s breath seemed to be punched out of his lungs as he muttered a soft curse and swallowed audibly. “Fuck, yeah, fine, I missed you. Now _Jesus_ , let me get my _hands_ on you.”

He moved both hands quickly down Dick’s sides and under the hem of the dress to slide along Dick’s ass and his (oh _fuck me_ ) tight boy cut panties, palming the warm flesh and enjoying the contrast between smooth skin and textured cotton. This time when he leaned up eager lips met his own and the kiss turned dirty fast, more tongue than anything else really. Jason didn’t mind and, if the sounds he absorbed from Dick’s mouth were any indication, the other man didn’t mind at all either.

Dick’s rhythm stuttered as he tried to push down harder against Jason but was stopped because his… _assets_ were still in the way. He gave a frustrated grumble and tried to wriggle himself into a better position but gave up, pulling back from Jason with a small whine.

“Get me out of these so I can get _closer_ ” he pouted, and Jason would have laughed at the withering look Dick shot down at his breasts if he wasn’t trying so hard not to rut against his well-placed ass thanks to the change in position.

“As you wish,” Jason grinned and sat up to mouth at Dick’s neck as he reached his hands around to find the zip and slide it down slowly, fingertips brushing warm skin as it was exposed to the air.

“Did you...did you just quote _The Princess Bride_ at me?”

Jason’s chuckle was hidden in the curve between shoulder and neck as he pushed the dress down to rest entirely at Dick’s hips and start on the clasp of the bra.

“Because that’s maybe a little bit weird but also a little bit perfect,” he stated, shifting to allow Jason better access to his front. Dick winced when Jason pulled off the breast forms, but he’d done it more gently than some other times he’d pulled them off himself so it wasn’t that bad. Jason set them aside and pulled the dress up and over Dick’s head, wrapping the forms in the material before dropping the bundle off the side of the bed as Dick shed his underwear.

“Don’t look much like a princess anymore, Buttercup,” Jason joked, running his hands slowly along Dick’s sides while being careful to avoid the still-sensitive area of his chest. He’d learned last time that it took Dick a while to be ready for anything there as he adjusted and Jason didn’t want to hurt him like he almost had previousy. 

“Do you still like me as a man, Westley?” Dick’s lower lip stuck out in a small pout and his blue eyes turned bright with feeling. “Or are you going to abandon me in search of another?”

Jason couldn’t hold back a snigger as he stroked gently up and down Dick’s back. “Nope,” he said, letting the ‘p’ pop at the end just to watch Dick smile in amusement. “You’ll never have to doubt again.”

Dick’s eyes turned liquid as he smiled down at Jason, whispering quietly, “I never doubted you for a second,” and then they were kissing again, both fighting for control and willing to let the other one take it as they sank into the softness of the blankets around them, giving and taking and generally enjoying themselves.

Jason couldn’t think of a time in recent memory where sex with anyone had been so much _fun_. Dick was funny and passionate--he pushed and he teased but mostly he _gave_. Even then, Jason could feel that this was mostly for him (not that Dick wasn’t enjoying it, mind you--the tip of his cock leaking against the front of Jason’s pants was tribute enough to that) and that Dick was giving more than he was taking, making sure Jason felt good before allowing himself to feel any pleasure. The angle of his hips as he ground down was suited more for stimulating Jason than getting himself off and he kept checking in every so often with slow swipes of his tongue across the younger man’s lips, waiting until the gesture was reciprocated until delving back in to kiss him harder again. 

It was both sweet and infuriating at the same time.

When Dick sucked Jason’s tongue into his mouth and moaned around it with the exact same sound he made when sucking Jason _off_ , he decided he’d waited long enough and it was time for Dick to start--

“--taking, Dick. God, you’re always giving. What do you _want_?”

Dick blinked owlishly at him for a few seconds, trying to focus with lust still clearly visible in his eyes. He had to swallow down a few false starts, voice slightly deeper from desire.

“I want to ride you, Jay. God, I wanna feel you inside me while I get to see your face. I want you to watch me while I _have_ you.”

That...sounded. Perfect. Wonderful. Like everything he’d wanted all night.

“Yeah that…” Jason licked his lip quickly, more a flash of a dry tongue to vainly attempt at moisture than anything else, and nodded once up at the vision looking down at him--cheek flushed, lips swollen and red, cock standing up proudly against his stomach, the head glistening faintly from the wetness mixed with the overhead light. “That sounds like it’ll do.”

Dick’s laugh was more arousing than it probably had any right to be, but Jason stopped over thinking his kinks a long time ago.

“It’ll do,” he quoted back at him breathlessly. “Encouraging, Jay, really.” His smile was fond though and he reached out to pull Jason’s shirt off, and why hadn’t they done that before? Dick shifted a bit at the look in Jason’s eyes and Jason pushed his pants off without much difficulty, kicking them to the side as Dick resumed his position on top. 

From there it was an easy progression: Dick slid down a bit, just enough to lay across Jason’s lap and then he proceeded to try and suck Jason’s lungs out through his dick (and almost succeeded as Jason felt like he couldn’t _breathe_ when Dick flicked his tongue over the metal he had in today, moaning for it); Jason opened Dick up slowly, relishing the high keening noises Dick made as soon as he was ready for another finger; and then Dick was back over him, pressing the bottle of lube into Jason’s palm again and panting out “now, do it now” and Jason had always been weak of will when it came to something he really wanted.

And god, did he want Dick. He wanted him in this position and about four others he could think of off the top of his head (and those were only the ones they _hadn’t_ tried yet, not the ones he wanted to try _again_ ) and he was sure he could’ve thought of more if Dick hadn’t been letting out a low moan as he had started to sink down slowly onto Jason’s length. He slid in past the initial ring of muscle and let out his own moan as warmth greeted him and Dick’s internal muscles fluttered against him slightly in welcome. His hands tightened on the bronzed hips above him and pulled down a bit to increase Dick’s slow descent.

“C’mon, Dickie, I want you now,” Jason (most certainly did _not_ , he didn’t, he--) whined. A smile greeted his words as the weight above him shifted into a slow grind down, enough to drive Jason wild with feeling but not enough to get him much closer to getting off.

“Not yet,” Dick breathed, leaning to rest his hands on Jason’s broad shoulders. “I’m gonna take you slow, Jay. I’m not going anywhere.”

Jason’s heart seized a bit at that, panic and delight fighting for control. He wasn’t sure if he wanted Dick to stay--well, right now most certainly did, but after that…

Dick’s hips swiveled in some kind of an interesting figure-eight and Jason’s brain helpfully told him to _shut the fuck up_ and that _yes, that’s perfect_ and _thrust up, it’ll feel good_ and it did. It felt so good that he did it again as he realized it was his voice that sounded broken and needy as he cried out. Color flushed high along his cheeks as Dick laughed quietly and kissed his nose, murmuring softly.

“Don’t hold back, Jay. I want every part of you tonight.” Dick’s smile was almost blinding in its sincerity and Jason had to keep from closing his eyes to avoid the truth he saw there. “I’m here, I’m not going anywhere, and I’ll come back to you as long as you’ll have me.”

Jason’s only response was a nod and a roughly muttered “fuckin’ sap, goldie” but he didn’t turn away from the slow kiss Dick initiated as he began to move his hips.

Sex with Dick was like riding a roller coaster: you started off with a high climb and then dropped right in, building up momentum as you went, cresting and looping and twisting and turning, approaching the end you knew was there. You desperately wanted the ride to continue but you also knew that sometimes the last loop or hill was the best. With Dick, you started out all frenzied kisses and heated touches, sometimes literally ripping clothes off (Jason couldn’t really regret the loss of one of his undershirts when the reason was because Dick had been so excited to get to Jason’s new nipple shield that he’d accidentally ripped the hem too hard and torn two finger holes into it) as you built up to that first hill. When you reached the top, it was like looking over at your best friend right before you fell: you exchanged giant grins and then took a deep breath as you prepared to scream to the heavens and enjoy the ride. When Dick finally decided it was time to get started (because the man could really get into foreplay), it started with his blinding smile and a promise of a good time. 

That’s right where they were--teetering on the top of that first hill, ready to tumble headfirst into the rest of the experience. Dick’s hips pressed down a bit, knees gripping Jason’s hips as he worked for leverage and a decent angle. When he found it, he rocked himself up a bit and then back down, keeping the pace slow enough to make Jason let out a needy-sounding keen into Dick’s mouth as he gently moved his tongue in the same rhythm. With each thrust, Dick moved them farther and faster, working himself onto Jason with long slow movements that Jason knew (from both his own experience in Dick’s position and from their previous sessions together) would be both stimulating and comfortable to maintain.

Which meant Dick intended to keep this slow and draw it out.

And drive him crazy.

“Oh no,” Jason murmured. “I swear to _god_ Dick, that if you don’t actually _fuck_ me, I’m going to flip you over so fast…”

He trailed off as Dick’s fingers traced slowly over chest, gently brushing against a nipple piercing and tracing a direct line down to his hip piercing via his bellybutton and the piercing there. Dick’s internal muscles worked around him and Jason had this sneaking feeling--somewhere in the part of his brain that wasn’t gone on the _hotwettight_ of Dick’s ass--that he was making a point to touch all of Jason’s visible piercings as a sort of sexually-charged grounding. From above, Dick looked down at him through his eyelashes and smirked slowly, repeating the squeezing motion as Jason cursed at him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, you don’t like this?” His tone was light and teasing but his eyes held the warmth of desire and they threatened to set fire to Jason’s soul if he let him.

“I...god, Dickie, just...fuck.” Jason stuttered out words as he grabbed Dick’s hips and dug his fingers in, thumbs resting on the man’s jutting hip bones and long fingers curling around and back towards the curve of Dick’s ass. “Me, preferably,” he tried again with a soft, strangled sounding chuckle. The ability to speak was slowly leaving him as Dick began to work his body against him in small thrusts. He if he didn’t get Dick just as worked up, he’d be laying here for an extended period of time while the other male worked him slowly into a wordless puddle in the bed.

“I intend to, Jay,” Dick murmured, “just not how you want it. I want to feel you fill me up slowly. I want to sink down on you _inch by inch_ just to feel the burn as you stretch me.”

Jason let out a rather undignified whimper at that and Dick grinned happily (and on anyone else it would’ve looked wickedly teasing) as he leaned down to whisper against Jason ear, letting the dirty words flow from his tongue as easily as the compliments and kind words he usually gave so freely. 

“I’m going to drive you crazy. I want to remind you that I’m here and I’ll keep coming back if you’ll let me.” Dick started to slowly move his hips up and down, not really giving much more than a gentle roll but even that had the man under him crying out and wrapping his arms around to hold him closer and move with him. Dick bit his own lip quickly and forcefully swallowed down the moan trying to work its way out his throat.

“I want to feel every bit of you. I want to wake up tomorrow and remember this every time I shift in my seat or bend over. I want that delicious piece of metal sliding inside me so I know that it’s _you_ I’m here with, that it’s _you_ making me fall apart at the seams.”

Jason’s breathing was little more than quick gasps as Dick began to ride him harder, talking past his own short pants, his voice sounding smoother than Jason trusted his own to be.

“I want you inside me, Jason. God, I love it when you’re not in a hurry and I can feel you all the way. You stretch me just how I like, make it so good for me,” Dick’s little gasp as he rolled down was a surprise to both of them and he let out a louder puff of breath against Jason’s skin, unable to deny that _that_ particular angle was rather wonderful.

“Dick,” Jason choked out, voice sounding rough and hoarse like it did after he’d been driving Dick insane by sucking him off. “I...need.” His arms tightened around Dick’s back and he tilted his hips to get that same angle again, wrapping one leg around the man’s hips and holding him in place as he rolled his hips upwards.

Dick’s entire body managed to melt and tense at the same time, head falling against Jason’s chest as his hips jerked against him _hard_.

“Oh, _shit_ ,” Dick whimpered, letting out a high keen as he ground himself in that position again, lifting his hips up a fraction more so the tip and Jason’s apadravya piercing better stimulated his prostate to leave him practically shaking. The feel of flesh-warmed metal, even through the latex, had Dick’s mind tripping over itself in its haste to get _moremore **more**_ , working himself to get _closer_.

Abruptly, the world shifted and the pleasant stimulation was gone to be replaced by a heavy weight on top of him.

“Jesus _fuck_ , Dick,” Jason breathed against his mouth, sucking in the other man’s exhaled breath, almost getting drunk off their closeness. “I need you so _hard_ ,” he moaned, stealing a bruising kiss and the breath from Dick’s lungs in one fell swoop.

Dick slid one hand into the short hairs at Jason’s neck, stroking and rubbing at the curls formed from the sweat collecting there, and tugged gently, tilting his lover’s head to an angle better suited to allow Jason access to his mouth. As soon as he did, Jason took the opportunity to thrust his tongue past Dick’s teeth and into his mouth, working into him in a slow rhythm that was reminiscent of Dick’s slow pace from before. When the man released a frustrated moan and clawed at Jason’s back, he didn’t relent, only thrust harder but not any faster until he _had_ to get air because the world shouldn’t be that fuzzy.

Gasping hard, he pulled back and pressed Dick’s shoulders down onto the bed as he whined and tried to follow. Jason’s grin was slow and deliberate, maddening in its ability to turn Dick on and make him impatient at the same time.

“Yeah, not so good being on the other end of that, is it, Goldie?” he queried, half out of breath but not _nearly_ as gone as Dick now, cheeks flushed and eyes almost black from the desire lighting up the thin ring of blue surrounding the darkness. Jason took great pleasure in realizing that _he_ was the one to have caused Dick to be like that. Not that he hadn’t before, but it just never got old, ya know?

Seeing the man fall apart under his touch wasn’t getting old at all.

Dick rolled up slightly, taking advantage of the softness of the mattress as he dipped down into it and then rose back up to take Jason into him in a slow thrust, letting out a whine in the process.

“C’mon, Jay,” Dick moaned, “I want you to fuck me already.”

Jason’s raised eyebrow was negated by the sharp intake of breath and subsequent quick exhale he couldn’t hide and Dick’s smile got wider as he repeated the motion, wrapping a leg under Jason’s ass and pulling him in deeper on the downstroke.

“You, uh, didn't seem to want that earlier,” Jason managed, falling forward to rest against Dick’s chest and breathe against his ear, alternating between slow tastes of the salt on Dick’s neck and gentle nips of his lobe. “You wanted to go slow.”

“ _Fuck_ me,” Dick groaned, head tilted back in a show of submission. “I _need_ you.”

Jason’s chuckle was lost to the moan that slipped past his lips as the heat around him tightened. “ _Fuck_ Dickie,” he panted, losing what little hold on the idea of a slow pace that he’d had to begin with. Admittedly, the hold wasn't strong and it didn't take much, but it was an interesting sensation losing it anyway.

“Missed you,” he breathed against Dick’s lips with a soft chuckle, opening and pushing his tongue against Dick’s own eager one. When the man below him let out a full body shudder, internally and externally, Jason pulled back with a two-syllable laugh.

“Did I just turn you on by saying I _missed_ you, Dick?” He pulled back enough to watch as the other’s cheeks tinged slightly red.

“M-maybe,” came the mumbled answer, Dick’s lips trying so hard not to smile that it looked instead like he was sucking on them. “I missed you, Jay,” he said and gave up on fighting his natural instinct, smiling through another deep kiss with the man above him and tilting his hips in a suggestive reminder.

Jason took the hint and went with it. He picked up the pace Dick had set before and improved on it, working harder and faster and _better_ than Dick thought it could be. Each time they came together like this, Dick knew it was different than the time before--not necessarily better or worse but different. This time, Dick felt the emotion behind Jason’s rough thrusts, knew that behind the labored pants and dirty promises he was spitting against his ear there were breathless sighs and a flurry of kind words that were being held in check behind the man’s teeth. He felt the “I care” and “I’m glad you’re back” and “yes, please” in the hard lines of the muscles on Jason’s back as he traced them with his fingertips and let out his own moans, voicing the words for both of them.

With a husky, breathless, almost _pained_ whisper of “sing for me, baby,” Dick’s entire body jerked up against Jason’s abs and the stimulation from the slick slide of the tip of his leaking cock against warm skin sent him hurtling over the edge headlong into his orgasm. His nails dug in under the jut of Jason’s scapulae, gasping with each twitch of his cock as he felt wetness gather between their bodies with each spurt. 

Jason’s hips slowed in him enough to let him finish and then started up again, teal eyes blown dark looking down hungrily at Dick. Dick reached one tingling arm up and pressed his thumb against Jason’s lips, gasping and squeezing around him when the man sucked the digit in hungrily and moaned. His hips stuttered slightly and Dick worked all his remaining energy into one hard thrust up against the hard body above him. He was rewarded with an almost vicious bite around his finger and a muffled cry of something that sounded suspiciously like his name as Jason twitched inside him and came hard, grinding once to push deeper before pulling out.

As Dick lay there in a slightly dazed stupor, Jason rolled out and off to dispose of the condom and grab a small washcloth from the stash they kept in the drawer of Dick’s nightstand for easy access. Dick’s mind registered _“Jason, naked, ass”_ but not much else as he watched the other man pad to the bathroom to wet the towel before coming back.

Dick liked this part almost as much as the sex before it--Jason’s hands that had been so rough on him before were amazingly gentle as he wiped at Dick’s skin, murmuring soft words when Dick shifted a bit from the too-much-too-soon touch against his spent cock. Dick knew (mostly because Jason liked to tease him about it) that he'd have the stupidest, most dazed half-grin on his face.

He didn't care.

He felt well and thoroughly fucked, a mix of used, cared for, numb, and mildly sore that didn't compare to anything else. So if his grin was stupid and if he pulled Jason in for a slow, deep kiss--so what? There was no one around to see and Jason wasn't going to tell anyone that he responded eagerly to the touch. It made Dick smile into the kiss and the smile remained even as he pulled back and shifted to his side, following Jason's body as he shifted to lay on his back. 

Dick rested one arm across Jason's rib cage and lay his head down on it to look up at his partner. Jason's face was warm with affection Dick knew was there, even if the man never said it. He looked thoroughly pleased with himself and Dick's imagination helpfully supplied an image of Jason smoking a cigarette in post-coital bliss. 

"What's got you tryin' to hide a smile, Goldie?" Jason murmured, sliding a hand slowly through Dick's hair like he was petting a favorite cat.

"Nothing," Dick said through a soft smile, insides warming at Jason's voice that sounded like sex poured slowly from a bottle. "Just thinking about you."

Jason's smile at that could have been considered dirty, but he was betrayed by his softly spoken words. "Good. That's how I like it."

Dick closed his eyes and got good and comfortable, ignoring the slight pain in his arm from the positioning. "I missed you, Jay," he breathed, already mentally asleep.

With his eyes closed, Dick missed the almost tender glance Jason leveled him with, but he managed to catch the softly spoken "missed you, too, Dickie" before he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright well, there we go, finally an update. I'm so sorry I slacked off on this. School and life and everything got actually insane and I haven't had much time to get to these boys and pay them the attention they deserve. (I haven't really had time for much of anything, but that's another story.) Here's what was originally supposed to be a really short snipet of a longer chapter but...snowballed. Majorly. So enjoy the p0rn for now and know that eventually more is coming. Because god knows we can't stop loving these boys even if we tried. Thanks for sticking with us and for the comments, kudos, and everything. You guys are amazing and we love you to pieces.


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